The inundation of the Spring
Submerges every soul,
It sweeps the tenement away
But leaves the water whole.
In which the Soul, at first alarmed,
Seeks furtive for its shore,
But acclimated, gropes no more
For that Peninsular.
Read all of Emily Dickinson's poems · About Emily Dickinson
More by Emily Dickinson
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog