Emily Dickinson
Put up my lute!
261

Put up my lute!
What of—my Music!
Since the sole ear I cared to charm
Passive—as Granite—laps My Music
Sobbing—will suit—as well as psalm!

Would but the "Memnon" of the Desert
Teach me the strain
That vanquished Him
When He—surrendered to the Sunrise
Maybe—that—would awaken—them!