< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu
This page needs to be proofread.
22 g POEMS.
��XL.
T THINK just how my shape will rise A When I shall be forgiven, Till hair and eyes and timid head Are out of sight, in heaven.
I think just how my lips will weigh With shapeless, quivering prayer That you, so late, consider me, The sparrow of your care.
I mind me that of anguish sent, Some drifts were moved away Before my simple bosom broke, And why not this, if they ?
And so, until delirious borne I con that thing, " forgiven," Till with long fright and longer trust I drop my heart, unshriven !
�� �
This article is issued from
Wikisource.
The text is licensed under Creative
Commons - Attribution - Sharealike.
Additional terms may apply for the media files.