English poetry

Poems in English

Victory comes late

Victory comes late
And is held low to freezing lips
Too rapt with frost
To take it
How sweet it would have tasted
Just a Drop
Was God so economical?
His Table’s spread too high for Us
Unless We dine on tiptoe
Crumbs fit such little mouths
Cherries suit Robbins
The Eagle’s Golden Breakfast strangles Them
God keep His Oath to Sparrows
Who of little Love know how to starve

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Poem Victory comes late - Emily Dickinson