Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/45

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HROUGH the straight pass of suffering
 * 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.

Their faith the everlasting troth; Their expectation fair; The needle to the north degree Wades so, through polar air.