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)
More Poetry from Emily Dickinson:
Emily Dickinson Poems based on Topics: Soul- Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Sic transit gloria mundi (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- I cannot live with You (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- The Wind begun to knead the Grass (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- One Year ago-jots what? (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Your Riches - taugh (Emily Dickinson Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Soul PoemsBased on Keywords: countenance, disclose, freight, license, loudest, enthrall, cellars, subterranean