To Her Derided Home

Emily Dickinson

1586

To her derided Home
A Weed of Summer came—
She did not know her station low
Nor Ignominy’s Name—
Bestowed a summer long
Upon a frameless flower—
Then swept as lightly from disdain
As Lady from her Bower—

Of Bliss the Codes are few—
As Jesus cites of Him—
“Come unto me” the moiety
That wafts the Seraphim—

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