Explore "Storm" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It sounded as if the streets were running, / And then the streets stood still.
Eclipse was all we could see at the window, / And awe was all we could feel.
By and by the boldest stole out of his covert, / To see if time was there.
Nature was in her beryl apron, / Mixing fresher air.