Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||
21
[IX. The heart asks pleasure first]
The heart asks pleasure first,
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, excuse from pain;
And then, those little anodynes
That deaden suffering;
And then, to go to sleep;
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
And then, if it should be
The will of its Inquisitor,
The liberty to die.
Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||