Tis So Appalling-it Exhilarates
Emily Dickinson
281 ’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!
Next 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : Tis So Much Joy! 'tis So Much Joy!
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Sunrise-little Maid-hast Thou
- Emily Dickinson : Tis True-they Shut Me In The Cold
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Whiter Than An Indian Pipe-
- Emily Dickinson : Title Divine-is Mine!
- Emily Dickinson : To Be Alive-is Power
- Emily Dickinson : To Be Forgot By Thee
- Emily Dickinson : To Break So Vast A Heart
- Emily Dickinson : To Die-takes Just A Little While
- Emily Dickinson : To Die-without The Dying
Previous 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Seasons Since The Dimpled War
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Opposites-entice
- Emily Dickinson : Tis One By One-the Father Counts
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Not The Swaying Frame We Miss
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Not That Dying Hurts Us So
- Emily Dickinson : Tis My First Night Beneath The Sun
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Little I-could Care For Pearls
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Good-the Looking Back On Grief
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Easier To Pity Those When Dead
- Emily Dickinson : Tis Customary As We Part
