Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete · Emily Dickinson
Chapter 10
Chapter 95 of 146 · 1 min read
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin, — so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the bird, But rapid, like the roe; His fashions quaint, mosaic, Or, haply, mistletoe.
His conversation seldom, His laughter like the breeze That dies away in dimples Among the pensive trees. Our interview was transient,— Of me, himself was shy; And God forbid I look behind Since that appalling day!
XI.
Some, too fragile for winter winds, The thoughtful grave encloses, — Tenderly tucking them in from frost Before their feet are cold.
Never the treasures in her nest The cautious grave exposes, Building where schoolboy dare not look And sportsman is not bold.
This covert have all the children Early aged, and often cold, — Sparrows unnoticed by the Father; Lambs for whom time had not a fold.
XII.
As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear, As for the lost we grapple, Though all the rest are here, —
In broken mathematics We estimate our prize, Vast, in its fading ratio, To our penurious eyes!
