All overgrown by cunning moss

All overgrown by cunning moss,
All interspersed with weed,
The little cage of "Currer Bell"
In quiet "Haworth" laid.

Gathered from many wanderings—
Gethsemane can tell
Thro' what transporting anguish
She reached the Asphodel!

Soft falls the sounds of Eden
Upon her puzzled ear—
Oh what an afternoon for Heaven,
When "Bronte" entered there!

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

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"All overgrown by cunning moss by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 22 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/11488>.

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