Skip to content
1830–1886

XLIX.

Emily Dickinson

We never know we go, — when we are going We jest and shut the door; Fate following behind us bolts it, And we accost no more.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
XLIX. · Emily Dickinson · Poetry Cove