I never felt at home below (43)
I never felt at home below,
And in the handsome skies
I shall not feel at home
I know,
I don’t like Paradise.
Because it’s Sunday all the time
And recess never comes,
And Eden’ll be so lonesome
Bright Wednesday afternoons.
If God could make a visit,
Or ever took a nap —
So not to see us — but they say
Himself a telescope
Perennial beholds us, —
Myself would run away
From Him and Holy Ghost and All —
But — there’s the Judgment Day!
From The Further Poems of Emily Dickinson (Little, Brown, And Company, 1929) by Emily Dickinson. © 1929 Martha Dickinson Bianchi. This poem is in the public domain.