Emily Dickinson

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

Train - Poem by Emily Dickinson

I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down the hill

And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop - docile and omnipotent -
At its own stable door.

Comments about Train by Emily Dickinson

  • Rookie Atimaa Yasiin (4/6/2009 5:36:00 PM)

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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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