Author Emily Dickinson A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid, -- An independent one. Was ever idleness like this? Within a hut of stone To bask the centuries away Nor once look up for noon? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments