 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
31
X.
ESCAPE.
I never hear the word “escape”
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude.
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude.
I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars,—
Only to fail again!
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars,—
Only to fail again!
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |