103 <br /> <br />I have a King, who does not speak— <br />So—wondering—thro' the hours meek <br />I trudge the day away— <br />Half glad when it is night, and sleep, <br />If, haply, thro' a dream, to peep <br />In parlors, shut by day. <br /> <br />And if I do—when morning comes— <br />It is as if a hundred drums <br />Did round my pillow roll, <br />And shouts fill all my Childish sky, <br />And Bells keep saying "Victory" <br />From steeples in my soul! <br /> <br />And if I don't—the little Bird <br />Within the Orchard, is not heard, <br />And I omit to pray <br />"Father, thy will be done" today <br />For my will goes the other way, <br />And it were perjury!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-have-a-king-who-does-not-speak/
