by Emily Dickinson
261
Put up my lute!
What of-my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm-
Passive-as Granite-laps My Music-
Sobbing-will suit-as well as psalm!
Would but the "Memnon" of the Desert-
Teach me the strain
That vanquished Him-
When He-surrendered to the Sunrise-
Maybe-that-would awaken-them!
Last updated June 21, 2015