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

  • Poem: Spring

    - Gerard Manley Hopkins Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look…

  • Poem: The Sun Rising

    - John Donne Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers’…

  • Poem: The Windhover

    - Gerard Manley Hopkins To Christ our Lord I caught this morning morning's minion, king- dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn…

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....