The World—stands—solemner—to me Emily Dickinson
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The World—stands—solemner—to me
Since I was wed—to Him
A modesty befits the soul
That bears another's—name
A doubt—if it be fair—indeed
To wear that perfect—pearl
The Man—upon the Woman—binds
To clasp her soul—for all
A prayer, that it more angel—prove
A whiter Gift—within
To that munificence, that chose
So unadorned—a Queen
A Gratitude—that such be true
It had esteemed the Dream
Too beautiful—for Shape to prove
Or posture—to redeem!
The World—stands—solemner—to me
Since I was wed—to Him
A modesty befits the soul
That bears another's—name
A doubt—if it be fair—indeed
To wear that perfect—pearl
The Man—upon the Woman—binds
To clasp her soul—for all
A prayer, that it more angel—prove
A whiter Gift—within
To that munificence, that chose
So unadorned—a Queen
A Gratitude—that such be true
It had esteemed the Dream
Too beautiful—for Shape to prove
Or posture—to redeem!
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