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616 I rose—because He sank— I thought it would be opposite— But when his power dropped— My Soul grew straight. I cheered my fainting Prince— I sang firm—even—Chants— I helped his Film—with Hymn— And when the Dews drew off That held his Forehead stiff— I met him— Balm to Balm— I told him Best—must pass Through this low Arch of Flesh— No Casque so brave It spurn the Grave— I told him Worlds I knew Where Emperors grew— Who recollected us If we were true— And so with Thews of Hymn— And Sinew from within— And ways I knew not that I knew—till then— I lifted Him—
Added: 2 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:48 PM | Viewed: 7586 times
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Emily Dickinson
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