There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us--
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are--
None may teach it--Any--
'Tis the Seal Despair--
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air--
When it comes, the Landscape listens--
Shadows--hold their breath--
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death--
There's A Certain Slant Of Light (258)
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: breath, death, despair, light, winter, hold, teach, distance, difference, imperial, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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