He Fumbles At Your Spirit Poem by Emily Dickinson

He Fumbles At Your Spirit

Rating: 4.5


He fumbles at your spirit
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
He stuns you by degrees,

Prepares your brittle substance
For the ethereal blow,
By fainter hammers, further heard,
Then nearer, then so slow

Your breath has time to straighten,
Your brain to bubble cool, --
Deals one imperial thunderbolt
That scalps your naked soul.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
* Sunprincess * 19 November 2015

....love this, a most incredible write with some stunning lines ?

1 0 Reply
Brian Jani 12 July 2014

a uneque concept here in this poem.Emily did a superb job

1 0 Reply
Yacov Mitchenko 15 August 2009

Yes, a very good one. I always wanted Emily for a girlfriend.

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Amherst / Massachusetts
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