'Tis so appalling - it exhilarates

by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

'Tis so appalling - it exhilarates -
So over Horror, it half Captivates -
The Soul stares after it, secure -
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more -

To scan a Ghost, is faint -
But grappling, conquers it -
How easy, Torment, now -
Suspense kept sawing so -

The Truth, is Bald, and Cold -
But that will hold -
If any are not sure -
We show them - prayer -
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now -

Looking at Death, is Dying -
Just let go the Breath -
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth -

Others, Can wrestle -
Yours, is done -
And so of Woe, bleak dreaded - come,
It sets the Fright at liberty -
And Terror's free -
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!

Last updated July 08, 2015