Explore "The Storm" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There came a wind like a bugle; / It quivered through the grass, / And a green chill upon the heat / So ominous did pass / We barred the windows and the doors / As from an emerald ghost; / The doom's electric moccason / That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees, / And fences fled away, / And rivers where the houses ran / The living looked that day.
The bell within the steeple wild / The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come / And much can go, / And yet abide the world!