Emily Dickinson



      As imperceptibly as Grief


As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away–
Too imperceptibly at last
To seem like Perfidy–
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon–
The Dusk drew earlier in–
The Morning foreign shone–
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone–
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.


Emily Dickinson