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The feet of people walking home

The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go
The Crocus til she rises
The Vassal of the snow
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore
Til bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.

Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted from the Sea
Pinions the Seraph’s wagon
Pedestrian once as we
Night is the morning’s Canvas
Larceny legacy
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.

My figures fail to tell me
How far the Village lies
Whose peasants are the Angels
Whose Cantons dot the skies
My Classics veil their faces
My faith that Dark adores
Which from its solemn abbeys
Such ressurection pours.


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Poem The feet of people walking home - Emily Dickinson
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