 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
41
[XXVII. On the bleakness of my lot]
On the bleakness of my lot
Bloom I strove to raise.
Late, my acre of a rock
Yielded grape and maize.
Bloom I strove to raise.
Late, my acre of a rock
Yielded grape and maize.
Soil of flint if steadfast tilled
Will reward the hand;
Seed of palm by Lybian sun
Fructified in sand.
Will reward the hand;
Seed of palm by Lybian sun
Fructified in sand.
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |