Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

Bound&Mdash;A Trouble - Poem by Emily Dickinson

269

Bound—a trouble—
And lives can bear it!
Limit—how deep a bleeding go!
So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
Deal with the soul
As with Algebra!

Tell it the Ages—to a cypher—
And it will ache—contented—on—
Sing&mdas h;at its pain—as any Workman—
Notching the fall of the Even Sun!


Comments about Bound&Mdash;A Trouble by Emily Dickinson

  • Rookie - 184 Points Angelina Holmes (5/6/2014 8:22:00 PM)

    Such a majestic poem. It makes me want to go paint a picture of mountains! (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: pain, sun



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



[Hata Bildir]