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 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
144
[XXXII. It was too late for man]
It was too late for man,
But early yet for God;
Creation impotent to help,
But prayer remained our side.
But early yet for God;
Creation impotent to help,
But prayer remained our side.
How excellent the heaven,
When earth cannot be had;
How hospitable, then, the face
Of our old neighbor, God!
When earth cannot be had;
How hospitable, then, the face
Of our old neighbor, God!
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |