Superfluous Were The Sun

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Title:     Superfluous Were The Sun
Author: Emily Dickinson [More Titles by Dickinson]

Superfluous were the sun
When excellence is dead;
He were superfluous every day,
For every day is said

That syllable whose faith
Just saves it from despair,
And whose 'I'll meet you' hesitates
If love inquire, 'Where?'

Upon his dateless fame
Our periods may lie,
As stars that drop anonymous
From an abundant sky.

[The end]
Emily Dickinson's poem: Superfluous Were The Sun

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