Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Real

I like a look of agony,
Because I know it 's true;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.

The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.

1. Is Bliss, Then, Such Abyss
2. Childish Griefs
3. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
4. Desire
5. Power

Print

1687 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version