Emily Dickinson Poems

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Most she touched me by her muteness --
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure --
Plea itself -- for Charity --

Were a Crumb my whole possession --
Were there famine in the land --
Were it my resource from starving --
Could I such a plea withstand --

Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky --
But the Crumb partook -- departed --
And returned On High --

I supposed -- when sudden
Such a Praise began
'Twas as Space sat singing
To herself -- and men --

'Twas the Winged Beggar --
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor
Making Gratitude

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