Emily Dickinson

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

This Chasm, Sweet, Upon My Life - Poem by Emily Dickinson


This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
I mention it to you,
When Sunrise through a fissure drop
The Day must follow too.

If we demur, its gaping sides
Disclose as 'twere a Tomb
Ourself am lying straight wherein
The Favorite of Doom.

When it has just contained a Life
Then, Darling, it will close
And yet so bolder every Day
So turbulent it grows

I'm tempted half to stitch it up
With a remaining Breath
I should not miss in yielding, though
To Him, it would be Death—

And so I bear it big about
My Burial—before
A Life quite ready to depart
Can harass me no more—

Comments about This Chasm, Sweet, Upon My Life by Emily Dickinson

There is no comment submitted by members..

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: death, life

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

[Hata Bildir]