Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

Most She Touched Me By Her Muteness - Poem by Emily Dickinson

760

Most she touched me by her muteness—
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure—
Plea itself—for Charity—

Were a Crumb my whole possession—
Were there famine in the land—
Were it my resource from starving—
Could I such a plea withstand—

Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky—
But the Crumb partook—departed—
And returned On High—

I supposed—when sudden
Such a Praise began
'Twas as Space sat singing
To herself—and men—

'Twas the Winged Beggar—
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor
Making Gratitude


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Read poems about / on: sky, thanks



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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