Emily Dickinson

I Got So I Could Take His Name

poem 293

I got so I could take his name Without Tremendous gain That Stop-sensation on my Soul And Thunder in the Room I got so I could walk across That Angle in the floor, Where he turned so, and I turned how And all our Sinew tore I got so I could stir the Box In which his letters grew Without that forcing, in my breath As Staples driven through Could dimly recollect a Grace I think, they call it God Renowned to ease Extremity When Formula, had failed And shape my Hands Petition’s way, Tho’ ignorant of a word That Ordination utters My Business, with the Cloud, If any Power behind it, be, Not subject to Despair It care, in some remoter way, For so minute affair As Misery Itself, too vast, for interrupting more

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