'Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast Thou
No Station in the Day?
'Twas not thy wont, to hinder so—
Retrieve thine industry—
'Tis Noon—My little Maid—
Alas—and art thou sleeping yet?
The Lily—waiting to be Wed—
The Bee—Hast thou forgot?
My little Maid—'Tis Night—Alas
That Night should be to thee
Instead of Morning—Had'st thou broached
Thy little Plan to Die—
Dissuade thee, if I could not, Sweet,
I might have aided—thee—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Not "Revelation"&Mdash;'Tis&Mdash;That Waits
- I Think The Hemlock Likes To Stand
- To Hang Our Head&Mdash;Ostensibly
- The Battlefield
- Rehearsal To Ourselves