Nothing New

Classic writing, modern delivery

Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 346 of 446 · Third Series: Love

Forgotten

— ✻ —

There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,--
At once is mute again.
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted brother
Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun,
Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
There is its victory!

Behold the keenest marksman!
The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul 'forgot'!

Receive Emily Dickinson one poem at a time, on your schedule.
Subscribe →