The Poems of Emily Dickinson: Series One
Time and Eternity, Poem 8
by Emily Dickinson
Look back on time with kindly eyes
Look back on time with kindly eyes
The soul selects her own society
Soul, wilt thou toss again?
This merit hath the worst, —
No rack can torture me
At least to pray is left, is left.
Though I get home how late, how late!
Of all the souls that stand create
Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
Sleep is supposed to be
To fight aloud is very brave
Success is counted sweetest
This is the land the sunset washes
God made a little gentian;
The only ghost I ever saw
I held a jewel in my fingers
He ate and drank the precious words
Essential oils are wrung:
If I should die
Hope is the thing with feathers
Mine by the right of the white election
Step lightly on this narrow spot!
Our journey had advanced
You left me, sweet, two legacies, —
That I did always love