The clouds their backs together laid,
The north began to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff–
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature’s temper cannot reach
Nor vengeance ever comes!

Emily Dickinson

Everything about this poem is odd.

The nature images are striking in their action: the forests gallop, the lightning skips, the thunder crumbles. The only safe place here is a tomb, which means that safety can only be found while dead. But speaker tells us this is good: there’s no vengeance to be found in a tomb.

The rhyme, too, is interesting, because it’s off kilter: there’s really no rhyme scheme here to speak of, unless we do some real reaching for slant rhymes. I’ll give you that tombs/comes was probably an intended rhyme, but push/mice? There are rhymes and repetitive sounds within the lines, though; consider till/fell, the long i of lightning/like/mice, the u of thunder/crumbled/stuff, good/tombs.

It’s unbalanced, too: in an 8-line poem, we have 5 lines about how terribly dangerous a storm can be, and 3 about the wonderful safety of being dead.