Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said That syllable whose Faith Just saves it from Despair And whose "I'll meet You" hesitates If Love inquire "Where"? Upon His dateless Fame Our Periods may lie As Stars that drop anonymous From an abundant sky.
Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:45 PM | Viewed: 7143 times
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