by Emily Dickinson
582
Inconceivably solemn!
Things go gay
Pierce-by the very Press
Of Imagery-
Their far Parades-order on the eye
With a mute Pomp-
A pleading Pageantry-
Flags, are a brave sight-
But no true Eye
Ever went by One-
Steadily-
Music's triumphant-
But the fine Ear
Winces with delight
Are Drums too near-
- Share this Poem:
Last updated June 21, 2015