Judgment is justest
When the Judged,
His action laid away,
Divested is of every Disk
But his sincerity.
Honor is then the safest hue
In a posthumous Sun -
Not any color will endure
That scrutiny can burn.
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Hope is a strange invention
- A train went through a burial gate
- STEP lightly on this narrow spot
- Not any sunny tone
- Declaiming Waters None May Dread