If He Dissolve—then—there Is Nothing - Poem by Emily Dickinson
If He dissolve—then—there is nothing—more—
It was dark—before—
Blindness—on the Dawn—
Faint Star of Bethlehem—
Would but some God—inform Him—
Or it be too late!
Say—that the pulse just lisps—
The Chariots wait—
Say—that a little life—for His—
His little Spaniel—tell Him!
Will He heed?
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