I play at Riches—to appease, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

I play at Riches—to appease

801

I play at Riches—to appease

The Clamoring for Gold—

It kept me from a Thief, I think,

For often, overbold

With Want, and Opportunity—

I could have done a Sin

And been Myself that easy Thing

An independent Man—

But often as my lot displays

Too hungry to be borne

I deem Myself what I would be—

And novel Comforting

My Poverty and I derive—

We question if the Man—

Who own—Esteem the Opulence—

As We—Who never Can—

Should ever these exploring Hands

Chance Sovereign on a Mine—

Or in the long—uneven term

To win, become their turn—

How fitter they will be—for Want—

Enlightening so well—

I know not which, Desire, or Grant—

Be wholly beautiful—

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Emily Dickinson

I play at Riches—to appease

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