Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/202

 190 POEMS.


 * IX.


 * THE BATTLE-FIELD.

HEY dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
 * Like petals from a rose,

When suddenly across the June
 * A wind with fingers goes.

They perished in the seamless grass, —
 * No eye could find the place;

But God on his repealless list
 * Can summon every face.