A poor — torn heart — a tattered heart —
That sat it down to rest —
Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day
Flowed silver to the West —
Nor noticed Night did soft descend —
Nor Constellation burn —
Intent upon the vision
Of latitudes unknown.
The angels — happening that way
This dusty heart espied —
Tenderly took it up from toil
And carried it to God —
There — sandals for the Barefoot —
There — gathered from the gales —
Do the blue havens by the hand
Lead the wandering Sails.
A worn-out person is carried to heaven.
this is my favorite poem of hers and of all poems i have read….she is my favorite poet
i luv this poem it has so much meaning and alot of detail i mean u can really understand what she is saying 🙂