Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

The things we thought that we should do
We other things have done
But those peculiar industries
Have never been begun —

The Lands we thought that we should seek
When large enough to run
By Speculation ceded
To Speculation's Son —

The Heaven, in which we hoped to pause
When Discipline was done
Untenable to Logic
But possibly the one —

1. Love's Humility
2. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
3. Desire
4. Power
5. Is Bliss, Then, Such Abyss

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