POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON
So, safer, guess, with just my soulUpon the window-paneWhere other creatures put their eyes.Incautious of the sun.
LXIII
TALK with prudence to a beggarOf “Potosi” and the mines!Reverently to the hungryOf your viands and your wines!
Cautious, hint to any captiveYou have passed enfranchised feet!Anecdotes of air in dungeonsHave sometimes proved deadly sweet!
LXIV
HE preached upon “breadth” till it argued him narrow,—The broad are too broad to define;And of “truth” until it proclaimed him a liar,—The truth never flaunted a sign.
Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presenceAs gold the pyrites would shun.What confusion would cover the innocent JesusTo meet so enabled a man!
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