Page:The complete poems of Emily Dickinson, (IA completepoemsofe00dick 1).pdf/65

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LIFE

I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.


LXXX

PRAYER is the little implement
Through which men reach
Where presence is denied them.
They fling their speech

By means of it in God’s ear;
If then He hear,
This sums the apparatus
Comprised in prayer.


LXXXI

I KNOW that he exists
Somewhere, in silence.
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.

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