Poem

The Sun and Moon must make their haste

Emily Dickinson
871 The Sun and Moon must make their haste— The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned— His Eye, it is the East and West— The North and South when He Do concentrate His Countenance Like Glow Worms, flee away— Oh Poor and Far— Oh Hindred Eye That hunted for the Day— The Lord a Candle entertains Entirely for Thee—

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