Emily Dickinson Poems

Back to Poems Page

The World -- feels Dusty
When We stop to Die --
We want the Dew -- then --
Honors -- taste dry --

Flags -- vex a Dying face --
But the least Fan
Stirred by a friend's Hand --
Cools -- like the Rain --

Mine be the Ministry
When they Thirst comes --
And Hybla Balms --
Dews of Thessaly, to fetch --

Email This Poem to a Friend

Previous Poem | Next Poem

View Emily Dickinson:  Poems | Quotes | Biography | Books

Copyright © 2006 - 2010 Famous Poets And Poems . com. All Rights Reserved.
The Poems and Quotes on this site are the property of their respective authors. All information has been
reproduced here for educational and informational purposes.