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), edited by Martha Dickinson Bianchi and Alfred Leete Hampson. This poem is in the public domain.