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Home ⇒ 🌹Emily Dickinson ⇒ I think just how my shape will rise

I think just how my shape will rise

I think just how my shape will rise
When I shall be “forgiven”
Till Hair and Eyes and timid Head
Are out of sight in Heaven

I think just how my lips will weigh
With shapeless quivering prayer
That you so late “Consider” me
The “Sparrow” of your Care

I mind me that of Anguish sent
Some drifts were moved away
Before my simple bosom broke
And why not this if they?

And so I con that thing “forgiven”
Until delirious borne
By my long bright and longer trust
I drop my Heart unshriven!


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Poem I think just how my shape will rise - Emily Dickinson
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