All overgrown by cunning moss,
All interspersed with weed,
The little cage of “Currer Bell”
In quiet “Haworth” laid.
Gathered from many wanderings —
Gethsemane can tell
Thro’ what transporting anguish
She reached the Asphodel!
Soft falls the sounds of Eden
Upon her puzzled ear —
Oh what an afternoon for Heaven,
When “Bronte” entered there!
(Emily Dickinson)
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Based on Topics: Heaven Poems, Weeds PoemsBased on Keywords: moss, gathered, cunning, anguish, eden, entered, cage, puzzled, gethsemane, wanderings, overgrown