alone

Poem: Of Tribulation

Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White—
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank
Of Victors—designate—

All these—did conquer—
But the ones who overcame most times—
Wear nothing commoner than Snow—
No Ornament, but Palms—

Surrender—is a sort unknown—
On this superior soil—
Defeat—an outgrown Anguish—
Remembered, as the Mile

Our panting Ankle barely passed—
When Night devoured the Road—
But we—stood whispering in the House—
And all we said—was "Saved"!

Emily Dickinson
Indexing:

Posts from This Journal by “poetry” Tag

  • a thing by me: To the Author

    Dearest, you must remember: Even fields grow tired. If the mighty earth itself must rest, How much more must you? Season after season of corn (on…

  • Poem: Lachrimae Amantis

    What is there in my heart that you should sue so fiercely for its love? What kind of care brings you as though a stranger to my door through the long…

  • Poem: Barter

    Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And…

Again, proof that Emily Dickinson is just, or was just, so bloody clever!
I didn't pick it out for this date on purpose, but in retrospect it seems pretty appropriate....