Literature Network » Emily Dickinson » Poems, Series 2 » Prelude

Prelude

My nosegays are for captives;
    Dim, long-expectant eyes,
Fingers denied the plucking,
    Patient till paradise,

To such, if they should whisper
    Of morning and the moor,
They bear no other errand,
    And I, no other prayer.

Literature Network » Emily Dickinson » Poems, Series 2 » Prelude



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