At Home.
The night was wide, and furnished scant With but a single star, That often as a cloud it met Blew out itself for fear. The wind pursued the little bush, And drove away the leaves November left; then clambered up And fretted in the eaves. No squirrel went abroad; A dog's belated feet Like intermittent plush were heard Adown the empty street. To feel if blinds be fast, And closer to the fire Her little rocking-chair to draw, And shiver for the poor, The housewife's gentle task. "How pleasanter," said she Unto the sofa opposite, "The sleet than May -- no thee!"
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"The night was wide, and furnished scant..."
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "At Home."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...