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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 4, Poema 26
XXVI.
Victory
comes
late,
And
is
held
to
cold
lips
Too
frozen
To
take
it.
How
sweet
it
would
taste,
Just
a
drop!
Was
God
so
careful?
His
table
is
too
high
for
us
Unless
we
stand
on
tip-toe.
Crumbs
fit
small
mouths,
Cherries
for
birds;
The
eagle's
big
meal
Chokes
them.
God
keeps
his
promise
to
birds,
Who
of
little
love
Know
how
to
go
without!
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