The Morning After Woe, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

The Morning After Woe

364

The Morning after Woe—

’Tis frequently the Way—

Surpasses all that rose before—

For utter Jubilee—

As Nature did not care—

And piled her Blossoms on—

And further to parade a Joy

Her Victim stared upon—

The Birds declaim their Tunes—

Pronouncing every word

Like Hammers—Did they know they fell

Like Litanies of Lead—

On here and there—a creature—

They’d modify the Glee

To fit some Crucifixal Clef—

Some Key of Calvary—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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Emily Dickinson

The Morning After Woe

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