A Pit -- but Heaven over it --

written by


« Reload image

A Pit -- but Heaven over it --
And Heaven beside, and Heaven abroad,
And yet a Pit --
With Heaven over it.

To stir would be to slip --
To look would be to drop --
To dream -- to sap the Prop
That holds my chances up.
Ah! Pit! With Heaven over it!

The depth is all my thought --
I dare not ask my feet --
'Twould start us where we sit
So straight you'd scarce suspect
It was a Pit -- with fathoms under it --
Its Circuit just the same.
Seed -- summer -- tomb --
Whose Doom to whom?

© Emily Dickinson