Emily Dickinson Poems

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Sang from the Heart, Sire,
Dipped my Beak in it,
If the Tune drip too much
Have a tint too Red

Pardon the Cochineal --
Suffer the Vermillion --
Death is the Wealth
Of the Poorest Bird.

Bear with the Ballad --
Awkward -- faltering --
Death twists the strings --
'Twasn't my blame --

Pause in your Liturgies --
Wait your Chorals --
While I repeat your
Hallowed name --

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