Emily Dickinson

It is easy to work when the soul is at play

 Next Poem          

244

It is easy to work when the soul is at play—
But when the soul is in pain—
The hearing him put his playthings up
Makes work difficult—then—

It is simple, to ache in the Bone, or the Rind—
But Gimlets—among the nerve—
Mangle daintier—terribler—
Like a Panter in the Glove—

Next Poem 

 Back to
Emily Dickinson