777 <br /> <br />The Loneliness One dare not sound— <br />And would as soon surmise <br />As in its Grave go plumbing <br />To ascertain the size— <br /> <br />The Loneliness whose worst alarm <br />Is lest itself should see— <br />And perish from before itself <br />For just a scrutiny— <br /> <br />The Horror not to be surveyed— <br />But skirted in the Dark— <br />With Consciousness suspended— <br />And Being under Lock— <br /> <br />I fear me this—is Loneliness— <br />The Maker of the soul <br />Its Caverns and its Corridors <br />Illuminate—or seal—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-loneliness-one-dare-not-sound/
