Exhilaration is the Breeze
That lifts us from the Ground
And leaves us in another place
Whose statement is not found -
Returns us not, but after time
We soberly descend
A little newer for the term
Upon Enchanted Ground -
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- The Hills erect their Purple Heads
- The grave my little cottage is
- Let me not mar that perfect Dream
- As subtle as tomorrow
- Could mortal lip divine