If He dissolve—then—there is nothing—more—
It was dark—before—
Blindness—on the Dawn—
Faint Star of Bethlehem—
Would but some God—inform Him—
Or it be too late!
Say—that the pulse just lisps—
The Chariots wait—
Say—that a little life—for His—
His little Spaniel—tell Him!
Will He heed?
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- I Got So I Could Take His Name
- 'Tis Sunrise&Mdash;Little Maid&Mdash;Hast Thou
- Not "Revelation"&Mdash;'Tis&Mdash;That Waits
- I Think The Hemlock Likes To Stand
- To Hang Our Head&Mdash;Ostensibly