Emily Dickinson
The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go -- The Crocus -- til she rises The Vassal of the snow -- The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Til bye and bye these Bargemen Walked singing on the shore. Pearls are the Diver's farthings Extorted from the Sea -- Pinions -- the Seraph's wagon Pedestrian once -- as we -- Night is the morning's Canvas Larceny -- legacy -- Death, but our rapt attention To Immortality. My figures fail to tell me How far the Village lies -- Whose peasants are the Angels -- Whose Cantons dot the skies -- My Classics veil their faces -- My faith that Dark adores -- Which from its solemn abbeys Such ressurection pours.
Emily Dickinson
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