The waters chased him as he fled,
Not daring look behind —
A billow whispered in his Ear,
“Come home with me, my friend —
My parlor is of shriven glass,
My pantry has a fish
For every palate in the Year” —
To this revolting bliss
The object floating at his side
Made no distinct reply.
(Emily Dickinson)
More Poetry from Emily Dickinson:
- 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)