Emily Dickinson Poem

Going to Heaven!

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Going to Heaven!

I don’t know when—

Pray do not ask me how!

Indeed I’m too astonished

To think of answering you!

Going to Heaven!

How dim it sounds!

And yet it will be done

As sure as flocks go home at night

Unto the Shepherd’s arm!


Perhaps you’re going too!

Who knows?

If you should get there first

Save just a little space for me

Close to the two I lost—

The smallest “Robe” will fit me

And just a bit of “Crown”—

For you know we do not mind our dress

When we are going home—


I’m glad I don’t believe it

For it would stop my breath—

And I’d like to look a little more

At such a curious Earth!

I’m glad they did believe it

Whom I have never found

Since the might Autumn afternoon

I left them in the ground.

Going to Him! Happy letter!
God permits industrious angels


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