Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/Only a shrine
ONLY a shrine
But mine;
I made the taper shine.
Madonna dim, to whom
All feet may come,
Regard a nun.
Thou knowest every woe,
Needless to tell Thee so,
But canst Thou do
The grace next to it—
Heal?
That looks a harder skill,
Still—just as easy, if it be
Thy will.
Grant me—
Thou knowest though,
So why tell Thee?
But mine;
I made the taper shine.
Madonna dim, to whom
All feet may come,
Regard a nun.
Thou knowest every woe,
Needless to tell Thee so,
But canst Thou do
The grace next to it—
Heal?
That looks a harder skill,
Still—just as easy, if it be
Thy will.
Grant me—
Thou knowest though,
So why tell Thee?