English poetry

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I cautious, scanned my little life

I cautious, scanned my little life
I winnowed what would fade
From what would last till Heads like mine
Should be a-dreaming laid.

I put the latter in a Barn
The former, blew away.
I went one winter morning
And lo – my priceless Hay

Was not upon the “Scaffold”
Was not upon the “Beam”
And from a thriving Farmer
A Cynic, I became.

Whether a Thief did it
Whether it was the wind
Whether Deity’s guiltless
My business is, to find!

So I begin to ransack!
How is it Hearts, with Thee?
Art thou within the little Barn
Love provided Thee?


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Poem I cautious, scanned my little life - Emily Dickinson