487
You love the Lord—you cannot see—
You write Him—every day—
A little note—when you awake—
And further in the Day.
An Ample Letter—How you miss—
And would delight to see—
But then His House—is but a Step—
And Mine's—in Heaven—You see.
Back to Emily Dickinson
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.