715 <br /> <br />The World—feels Dusty <br />When We stop to Die— <br />We want the Dew—then— <br />Honors—taste dry— <br /> <br />Flags—vex a Dying face— <br />But the least Fan <br />Stirred by a friend's Hand— <br />Cools—like the Rain— <br /> <br />Mine be the Ministry <br />When they Thirst comes— <br />And Hybla Balms— <br />Dews of Thessaly, to fetch—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-world-feels-dusty/
