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. Ventures
2. Philosophy
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. Contrast
5. Disenchantment

Print

2537 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version