Emily Dickinson - For this -- accepted Breath
For this -- accepted Breath -- Through it -- compete with Death -- The fellow cannot touch this Crown -- By it -- my title take -- Ah, what a royal sake To my necessity -- stooped down! No Wilderness -- can be Where this attendeth me -- No Desert Noon -- No fear of frost to come Haunt the perennial bloom -- But Certain June! Get Gabriel -- to tell -- the royal syllable -- Get Saints -- with new -- unsteady tongue -- To say what trance below Most like their glory show -- Fittest the Crown! |