The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea —
Forgets her own locality —
As I — toward Thee —
She knows herself an incense small —
Yet small — she sighs — if All — is All —
How larger — be?
The Ocean — smiles — at her Conceit —
But she, forgetting Amphitrite —
Pleads — “Me”?
(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)