Prayer Is the Little Implement, by Emily Dickinson

Prayer Is the Little Implement

437

Prayer is the little implement

Through which Men reach

Where Presence—is denied them.

They fling their Speech

By means of it—in God’s Ear—

If then He hear—

This sums the Apparatus

Comprised in Prayer—

LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick

722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,

308 I send Two Sunsets— Day and I—in competition ran— I finished Two—and several Stars— While He—was making One—

163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—

Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away

To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—

381 A Secret told— Ceases to be a Secret—then— A Secret—kept— That—can appal but One—

323 As if I asked a common Alms, And in my wondering hand A Stranger pressed a Kingdom, And I, bewildered, stand—

808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see

Before you thought of spring, Except as a surmise, You see, God bless his suddenness… A fellow in the skies Of independent hues,

XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.

821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—

778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—

Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature

213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?