Refuge

THE clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like stuff —
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature’s temper cannot reach,
Nor vengeance ever comes!

First print Time and Eternity XVI, 16
Johnson 1172 | Franklin 1246

■→IN POLISH

Text compared with the fascicle and prepared for publication by Teresa Pelka, available under any of the following licenses:
■Creative Commons License 4.0, BY-SA 3.0, and License 2.5.

■→Poems, first print by Higginson and Todd, page 125;
Word shape “stuff” alone, rather than a phrase as a stuff: there was not, and there still is no such poetic use.

■Notes for Emily Dickinson’s poetry;
Poems one-by-one print and fascicle comparison,
■Resource for Emily Dickinson’s poetry;
■Google Drive, manuscript fascicles.