A Poor Torn Heart, A Tattered Heart,
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart, That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west, Nor noticed night did soft descend Nor constellation burn, Intent upon the vision Of latitudes unknown. The angels, happening that way, This dusty heart espied; Tenderly took it up from toil And carried it to God. There, -- sandals for the barefoot; There, -- gathered from the gales, Do the blue havens by the hand Lead the wandering sails.
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"A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,..."
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "A Poor Torn Heart, A Tattered Heart,"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...