Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/My soul accused me

​
MY soul accused me
And I quailed
As tongue of diamond
Had reviled.

All else accused me
And I smiled,
My soul that morning
Was my friend.

Her favor is the best
Disdain
Toward artifice of Time
Or Men,
But her disdain—'twere
Cooler bear
A finger of enameled fire!

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.