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A poor-torn heart-a tattered heart-
That sat it down to rest-
Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day
Flowed silver to the West-
Nor noticed Night did soft descend-
Nor Constellation burn-
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.
The angels-happening that way
This dusty heart espied-
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God-
There-sandals for the Barefoot-
There-gathered from the gales-
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering Sails.
A Poor'torn Heart'a Tattered Heart
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: god, night, poor, silver, blue, unknown, vision, soft, Valentine's Day, heart, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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