Its Hour with itself
The Spirit never shows.
What Terror would enthrall the Street
Could Countenance disclose
The Subterranean Freight
The Cellars of the Soul --
Thank God the loudest Place he made
Is license to be still.
Its Hour with itself
The Spirit never shows.
What Terror would enthrall the Street
Could Countenance disclose
The Subterranean Freight
The Cellars of the Soul --
Thank God the loudest Place he made
Is license to be still.
© Emily Dickinson