Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

The Storm

There came a wind like a bugle;
It quivered through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald ghost;
The doom's electric moccason
That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees,
And fences fled away,
And rivers where the houses ran
The living looked that day.
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the world!

1. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
2. Unto My Books So Good to Turn
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. Going
5. I Lived on Dread; to Those Who Know

Letitia Landon The Storm ("There was a vessel combating the waves")

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