Chartless

by Emily Dickinson

I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet now I know how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in Heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given.

Rate this Poem:

Crowd Score: 4.5

📖

Want to save this story?

Create a free account to build your personal library of favorite stories