large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb_78
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
It might be famine all around, I could not miss an ear, Such plenty smiles upon my board, My garner shows so fair. I wonder how the rich may feel,    An Indiaman    an Earl? I deem that I with but a crumb Am sovereign of them all. IT MIGHT BE FAMINE ALL ROUND I COULD NOT MISS AN EAR SUCH PLENTY SMILES UPON MY BOARD MY GARNER SHOWS SO FAIR I WONDER HOW THE RICH MAY FEEL AN INDIAMAN AN EARL I DEEM THAT I WITH BUT A CRUMB AM SOVEREIGN OF THEM ALL
-- Faith faints to understand. XXV. SHIPWRECK. It tossed and tossed, -- A little brig I knew, -- O'ertook by blast, It spun and spun, And groped delirious, for morn. It slipped and slipped, As one that drunken stepped; Its white foot tripped, Then dropped from sight. Ah, brig, good-night To crew and you; The ocean's heart too smooth, too blue, To break for you. XXVI. Victory comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it. How sweet it would have tasted, Just a drop! Was God so economical? His table 's spread too high for us Unless we dine on tip-toe. Crumbs fit such little mouths, Cherries suit robins; The eagle's golden breakfast Strangles them. God keeps his oath to sparrows, Who of little love Know how to starve! XXVII. ENOUGH. God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me; I dare not eat it, though I starve, -- My poignant luxury To own it, touch it, prove the feat That made the pellet mine, -- Too happy in my sparrow chance For ampler coveting. T DEFINE TIS THIRSTING VITALIZES WINE FAITH FAINTS TO UNDERSTAND TWENTY FIVE SHIPWRECK IT TOSSED AND TOSSED A LITTLE BRIG I KNEW O'ERTOOK BY BLAST IT SPUN AND SPUN AND GROPED DELIRIOUS FOR MORN IT SLIPPED AND SLIPPED AS ONE THAT DRUNKEN STEPPED ITS WHITE FOOT TRIPPED THEN DROPPED FROM SIGHT AH BRIG GOOD NIGHT TO CREW AND YOU THE OCEAN'S HEART TOO SMOOTH TOO BLUE TO BREAK FOR YOU TWENTY SIX VICTORY COMES LATE AND IS HELD LOW TO FREEZING LIPS TOO RAPT WITH FROST TO TAKE IT HOW SWEET IT WOULD HAVE TASTED JUST A DROP WAS GOD SO ECONOMICAL HIS TABLES SPREAD TOO HIGH FOR US UNLESS WE DINE ON TIPTOE CRUMBS FIT SUCH LITTLE MOUTHS CHERRIES SUIT ROBINS THE EAGLE'S GOLDEN BREAKFAST STRANGLES THEM GOD KEEPS HIS OATH TO SPARROWS WHO OF LITTLE LOVE KNOW HOW TO STARVE TWENTY SEVEN ENOUGH GOD GAVE A LOAF TO EVERY BIRD BUT JUST A CRUMB TO ME I DARE NOT EAT IT THOUGH I STARVE MY POIGNANT LUXURY TO OWN IT TOUCH IT PROVE THE FEAT THAT MADE THE PELLET MINE TOO HAPPY IN MY SPARROW CHANCE FOR AMPLER COVETING
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