 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
175
[XXXVII. The dying need but little, dear]
The dying need but little, dear,—
A glass of water 's all,
A flower's unobtrusive face
To punctuate the wall,
A glass of water 's all,
A flower's unobtrusive face
To punctuate the wall,
A fan, perhaps, a friend's regret,
And certainly that one
No color in the rainbow
Perceives when you are gone.
And certainly that one
No color in the rainbow
Perceives when you are gone.
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |