I got so I could take his name –Without – Tremendous gain –That Stop-sensation – on my Soul –And Thunder – in the Room –

I got so I could walk acrossThat Angle in the floor,Where he turned so, and I turned – how –And all our Sinew tore –

I got so I could stir the Box –In which his letters grewWithout that forcing, in my breath –As Staples – driven through –

Could dimly recollect a Grace –I think, they call it "God" –Renowned to ease Extremity –When Formula, had failed –

And shape my Hands –Petition's way,Tho' ignorant of a wordThat Ordination – utters –

My Business – with the Cloud,If any Power behind it, be,Not subject to Despair –It care, in some remoter way,For so minute affairAs Misery –Itself, too vast, for interrupting – more –

Emily Dickinson