Emily Dickinson

Not with a club, the Heart is broken

Not with a club, the Heart is broken,
     Nor with a stone;
A whip, so small you could not see it,
     I’ve known
 
To lash the magic creature
     Till it fell,
Yet that whip’s name too noble
     Then to tell.
 
Magnanimous of bird
     By boy descried,
To sing unto the stone
     Of which it died.
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