Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
317 Just so—Jesus—raps— He—doesn't weary— Last—at the Knocker— And first—at the Bell. Then—on divinest tiptoe—standing— Might He but spy the lady's soul— When He—retires— Chilled—or weary— It will be ample time for—me— Patient—upon the steps—until then— Hears! I am knocking—low at thee.
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 5:21 AM | Viewed: 5735 times
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