Emily Dickinson
He told a homely tale
763

He told a homely tale
And spotted it with tears
Upon his infant face was set
The Cicatrice of years

All crumpled was the cheek
No other kiss had known
Than flake of snow, divided with
The Redbreast of the Barn

If Mother—in the Grave
Or Father—on the Sea
Or Father in the Firmament
Or Brethren, had he

If Commonwealth below
Or Commonwealth above
Have missed a Barefoot Citizen
I've ransomed it—alive