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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?
(Emily Dickinson)
More Poetry from Emily Dickinson:
- Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Sic transit gloria mundi (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- I cannot live with You (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- The Wind begun to knead the Grass (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- One Year ago-jots what? (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Your Riches - taugh (Emily Dickinson Poems)