322 <br /> <br />There came a Day at Summer's full, <br />Entirely for me— <br />I thought that such were for the Saints, <br />Where Resurrections—be— <br /> <br />The Sun, as common, went abroad, <br />The flowers, accustomed, blew, <br />As if no soul the solstice passed <br />That maketh all things new— <br /> <br />The time was scarce profaned, by speech— <br />The symbol of a word <br />Was needless, as at Sacrament, <br />The Wardrobe—of our Lord— <br /> <br />Each was to each The Sealed Church, <br />Permitted to commune this—time— <br />Lest we too awkward show <br />At Supper of the Lamb. <br /> <br />The Hours slid fast—as Hours will, <br />Clutched tight, by greedy hands— <br />So faces on two Decks, look back, <br />Bound to opposing lands— <br /> <br />And so when all the time had leaked, <br />Without external sound <br />Each bound the Other's Crucifix— <br />We gave no other Bond— <br /> <br />Sufficient troth, that we shall rise— <br />Deposed—at length, the Grave— <br />To that new Marriage, <br />Justified—through Calvaries of Love—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/there-came-a-day-at-summer-s-full/
