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Perhaps you think me stooping
I'm not ashamed of that
Christ—stooped until He touched the Grave—
Do those at Sacrament
Commemorative Dishonor
Or love annealed of love
Until it bend as low as Death
Redignified, above?
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- The Trees Like Tassels—hit—and Swung
- The Love A Life Can Show Below
- The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized.
- My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills
- Just Lost, When I Was Saved!