Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

A Service of Song

Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.

Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.

God preaches, — a noted clergyman, —
And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last,
I'm going all along!

1. A Shady Friend for Torrid Days
2. Portraits Are to Daily Faces
3. The Goal
4. Sight
5. The Butterfly's Assumption-Gown

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