by Emily Dickinson
918
Only a Shrine, but Mine-
I made the Taper shine-
Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may come,
Regard a Nun-
Thou knowest every Woe-
Needless to tell thee-so-
But can'st thou do
The Grace next to it-heal?
That looks a harder skill to us-
Still-just as easy, if it be thy Will
To thee-Grant me-
Thou knowest, though, so Why tell thee?
Last updated June 21, 2015