Most she touched me by her muteness —

Most she touched me by her muteness —
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure —
Plea itself — for Charity —

Were a Crumb my whole possession —
Were there famine in the land —
Were it my resource from starving —
Could I such a plea withstand —

Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky —
But the Crumb partook — departed —
And returned On High —

I supposed — when sudden
Such a Praise began
‘Twas as Space sat singing
To herself — and men —

'Twas the Winged Beggar —
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor
Making Gratitude

Emily Dickinson

A Lark

Most she touched me by her muteness —
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure
And Beg for Charity —

Were a Crumb my whole possession —
Were there famine in the land —
Were it my resource from starving —
Could I withstand such a appeal—

Not upon her knee to thank me
This Beggar sank from the Sky —
But partook the Crumb— departed —
And returned On High —

I supposed — when sudden
Such Praise began
‘Twas as Space sat singing
To herself — and men —

'Twas the Winged Beggar —
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor
Making Gratitude