Page:Emily Dickinson Poems (1890).djvu/135

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.



God permits industrious angels
Afternoons to play.
I met one, — forgot my school-mates,
All, for him, straightway.

God calls home the angels promptly
At the setting sun ;
I missed mine.  How dreary marbles,
After playing Crown !