large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb_25
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
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! 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
ew so perfect yesterday, -- That scalding one, "Sabachthani," Recited fluent here. Earth would have been too much, I see, And heaven not enough for me; I should have had the joy Without the fear to justify, -- The palm without the Calvary; So, Saviour, crucify. Defeat whets victory, they say; The reefs in old Gethsemane Endear the shore beyond. 'T is beggars banquets best define; 'T is thirsting vitalizes wine, -- 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. AR TOO DIM TO ME THAT I COULD SPELL THE PRAYER I KNEW SO PERFECT YESTERDAY THAT SCALDING ONE SABAKTHENY RECITED FLUENT HERE EARTH WOULD HAVE BEEN TOO MUCH I SEE AND HEAVEN NOT ENOUGH FOR ME I SHOULD HAVE HAD THE JOY WITHOUT THE FEAR TO JUSTIFY THE PALM WITHOUT THE CALVARY SO SAVIOR CRUCIFY DEFEAT WETS VICTORY THEY SAY THE WREATHS IN OLD GET SEMINE AND DEAR THE SHORE BEYOND TIS BEGGAR'S BANQUETS BEST 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
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