Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ The Lightning playeth all the while
The Lightning playeth all the while
The Lightning playeth all the while
But when He singeth then
Ourselves are conscious He exist
And we approach Him stern
With Insulators and a Glove
Whose short sepulchral Bass
Alarms us tho’ His Yellow feet
May pass and counterpass
Upon the Ropes above our Head
Continual with the News
Nor We so much as check our speech
Nor stop to cross Ourselves
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