Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete · Emily Dickinson
Chapter 32
Chapter 106 of 146 · 1 min read
GONE.
Went up a year this evening! I recollect it well! Amid no bells nor bravos The bystanders will tell! Cheerful, as to the village, Tranquil, as to repose, Chastened, as to the chapel, This humble tourist rose. Did not talk of returning, Alluded to no time When, were the gales propitious, We might look for him; Was grateful for the roses In life's diverse bouquet, Talked softly of new species To pick another day.
Beguiling thus the wonder, The wondrous nearer drew; Hands bustled at the moorings — The crowd respectful grew. Ascended from our vision To countenances new! A difference, a daisy, Is all the rest I knew!
XXXIII.
REQUIEM.
Taken from men this morning, Carried by men to-day, Met by the gods with banners Who marshalled her away.
One little maid from playmates, One little mind from school, — There must be guests in Eden; All the rooms are full.
Far as the east from even, Dim as the border star, — Courtiers quaint, in kingdoms, Our departed are.
XXXIV.
What inn is this Where for the night Peculiar traveller comes? Who is the landlord? Where the maids? Behold, what curious rooms! No ruddy fires on the hearth, No brimming tankards flow. Necromancer, landlord, Who are these below?
