Of Consciousness, her awful Mate

Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid—
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.

The deepest hid is sighted first
And scant to Him the Crowd—
What triple Lenses burn upon
The Escapade from God—

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
69 Views

Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

All Emily Dickinson poems | Emily Dickinson Books

FAVORITE (45 fans)

Translation

Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

Discuss this Emily Dickinson poem with the community:

Citation

Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

Style:MLAChicagoAPA

"Of Consciousness, her awful Mate by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 18 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/12008>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.