I Went to Heaven


I went to heaven, - 
'Twas a small town,
Lit with a ruby,
Lathed with down.
Stiller than the fields
At the full dew,
Beautiful as pictures
No man drew.
People like the moth,
Of mechlin, frames,
Duties of gossamer,
And eider names.
Almost contented
I could be
'Mong such unique


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Return to the Emily Dickinson Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Much Madness is divinest Sense

It ain't what you don't know that gets you into trouble. It's what you know for sure that just ain't so.