I lived on dread; to those who know
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less.
As't were a spur upon the soul,
A fear will urge it where
To go without the spectre's aid
Were challenging despair.
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- On Such A Night, Or Such A Night
- Musicians Wrestle Everywhere
- 'Tis Good&Mdash;The Looking Back On Grief
- Whether My Bark Went Down At Sea
- The Chemical Conviction
