An Evening With Emily
Doth if not thrill thee, Poet,
Dead and dust though thy art,
To feel how I press thy singing
Close to my heart?
By Richard Le Gallienne
(The Passionate Reader To His Poet)
An Evening With Emily
I spent an evening with Emily
(Dickinson, you know)
I told her she was my idol
Her words had touched me so
So simple were the musings
Written deeply from her soul
Each thought struck like lightning
And had the power to console
She wrote of life and love
As though she lived them to the full
In truth, she rarely left her room
Yet her words were powerful
She didn’t need to travel far
To smell the sea and air
She closed her eyes and summoned them
From the confines of her chair
She wrote of death as calmly
As she wrote of birds and sky
Describing her last journey
In a chariot stopping by
She led a very lonely life
And never let the world intrude
But oh, what a lovely legacy she left
From that world of solitude
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