The World—feels Dusty, by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

The World—feels Dusty

715

The World—feels Dusty

When We stop to Die—

We want the Dew—then—

Honors—taste dry—

Flags—vex a Dying face—

But the least Fan

Stirred by a friend’s Hand—

Cools—like the Rain—

Mine be the Ministry

When they Thirst comes—

And Hybla Balms—

Dews of Thessaly, to fetch—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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Emily Dickinson

The World—feels Dusty

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