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 —
(Emily Dickinson)
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