Skip to content

In her own words

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Emily Dickinson · 1830-1886

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,And Mourners to and froKept treading – treading – till it seemedThat Sense was breaking through –
And when they all were seated,A Service, like a Drum –Kept beating – beating – till I thoughtMy Mind was going numb –
And then I heard them lift a BoxAnd creak across my SoulWith those same Boots of Lead, again,Then Space – began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,And Being, but an Ear,And I, and Silence, some strange RaceWrecked, solitary, here –
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,And I dropped down, and down –And hit a World, at every plunge,And Finished knowing – then –

See it in her own handHoughton Library, Harvard, page 1 of 2

The poems here are transcribed from Dickinson's own manuscripts, which are in the public domain. Her dashes, capital letters, and spellings are kept as she wrote them, so these read differently from the smoothed versions printed after her death. The manuscript images are reproduced courtesy of the libraries that hold them: the Boston Public Library (no known copyright restrictions), Amherst College Archives and Special Collections (free for non-commercial and educational use, with credit), and the Houghton Library at Harvard University, whose policy permits publishing images of its public-domain holdings. The modern dash-faithful scholarly editions remain under copyright and are not used here.