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Forget! The lady with the Amulet
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Forget! The lady with the Amulet
Forget she wore it at her Heart
Because she breathed against
Was Treason twixt?
Deny! Did Rose her Bee—
For Privilege of Play
Or Wile of Butterfly
Or Opportunity—Her Lord away?
The lady with the Amulet—will face—
The Bee—in Mausoleum laid—
Discard his Bride—
But longer than the little Rill—
That cooled the Forehead of the Hill—
While Other—went the Sea to fill—
And Other—went to turn the Mill—
I'll do thy Will—
poem
by
Emily Dickinson
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