There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- "Nature" Is What We See
- "Faith" Is A Fine Invention
- "Why Do I Love" You, Sir?
- Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
- The Spry Arms Of The Wind