1382
In many and reportless places
We feel a Joy-
Reportless, also, but sincere as Nature
Or Deity-
It comes, without a consternation-
Dissolves-the same-
But leaves a sumptuous Destitution-
Without a Name-
Profane it by a search-we cannot
It has no home-
Nor we who having once inhaled it-
Thereafter roam.
In Many And Reportless Places
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: feel, home, joy, nature, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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