982
No Other can reduce
Our mortal Consequence
Like the remembering it be nought
A Period from hence
But Contemplation for
Contemporaneous Nought
Our Single Competition
Jehovah's Estimate.
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- To Mend Each Tattered Faith
- If Nature Smiles - The Mother Must
- I Make His Crescent Fill Or Lack
- Pigmy Seraphs—gone Astray
- Of All The Sounds Despatched Abroad