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918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may come, Regard a Nun— Thou knowest every Woe— Needless to tell thee—so— But can'st thou do The Grace next to it—heal? That looks a harder skill to us— Still—just as easy, if it be thy Will To thee—Grant me— Thou knowest, though, so Why tell thee?
Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 8 Jan 2009 6:05 PM | Viewed: 4900 times
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Emily Dickinson
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