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If He Dissolve—then—there Is Nothing
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

If He Dissolve—then—there Is Nothing

Poem By Emily Dickinson

236

If He dissolve—then—there is nothing—more—
Eclipse—at Midnight—
It was dark—before—
Sunset—at Easter—
Blindness—on the Dawn—
Faint Star of Bethlehem—
Gone down!

Would but some God—inform Him—
Or it be too late!
Say—that the pulse just lisps—
The Chariots wait—

Say—that a little life—for His—
Is leaking—red—
His little Spaniel—tell Him!
Will He heed?

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Comments (1)

............wonderful theme, and nicely penned ★


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