Poems by Emily Dickinson: The Martyrs
Updated May 6, 2020 |
Infoplease Staff
The Martyrs
The Martyrs
Through the straight pass of suffering
The martyrs even trod,
Their feet upon temptation,
Their faces upon God.
The martyrs even trod,
Their feet upon temptation,
Their faces upon God.
A stately, shriven company;
Convulsion playing round,
Harmless as streaks of meteor
Upon a planet's bound.
Convulsion playing round,
Harmless as streaks of meteor
Upon a planet's bound.
Their faith the everlasting troth;
Their expectation fair;
The needle to the north degree
Wades so, through polar air.
Their expectation fair;
The needle to the north degree
Wades so, through polar air.
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