802
Time feels so vast that were it not
For an Eternity—
I fear me this Circumference
Engross my Finity—
To His exclusion, who prepare
By Processes of Size
For the Stupendous Vision
Of his diameters—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Put Up My Lute!
- Not In This World To See His Face
- The Whole Of It Came Not At Once
- I Know Lives, I Could Miss
- The Lady Feeds Her Little Bird