 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
71
[XLVI. Heart not so heavy as mine]
Heart not so heavy as mine,
Wending late home,
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune,—
Wending late home,
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune,—
A careless snatch, a ballad,
A ditty of the street;
Yet to my irritated ear
An anodyne so sweet,
A ditty of the street;
Yet to my irritated ear
An anodyne so sweet,
It was as if a bobolink,
Sauntering this way,
Carolled and mused and carolled,
Then bubbled slow away.
Sauntering this way,
Carolled and mused and carolled,
Then bubbled slow away.
72
It was as if a chirping brook
Upon a toilsome way
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why.
Upon a toilsome way
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why.
To-morrow, night will come again,
Weary, perhaps, and sore.
Ah, bugle, by my window,
I pray you stroll once more!
Weary, perhaps, and sore.
Ah, bugle, by my window,
I pray you stroll once more!
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |