I bring an unaccustomed wine
To lips long parching next to mine,
And summon them to drink….
And so I always bear the cup
If, haply, mine may be the drop
Some pilgrim thirst to slake, –
If, haply, any say to me,
“Unto the little, unto me,”
When I at last awake.
Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886).
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