Love can do all but raise the Dead
I doubt if even that
From such a giant were withheld
Were flesh equivalent
But love is tired and must sleep,
And hungry and must graze
And so abets the shining Fleet
Till it is out of gaze.
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Some Wretched creature, savior take
Who would exult to die
And leave for thy sweet mercy's sake
Another Hour to me
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Never a fan really, just stumbled on some of her poems. thanks to Life Expectancy.
- Posted by Rick at February 27, 2005 12:50 AM
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Dickinson was a very strong writer...I really like some of her stuff.
Posted by: Connie at February 27, 2005 11:12 AM