A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By strech of limb or stir of lid, --
An independent one.
Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon?
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- A Loss Of Something Ever Felt I
- A House Upon The Height
- There Is Another Sky
- A Little Road Not Made Man
- Apparently With No Surprise