Forgotten (Poem by Emily Dickinson)

Emily Dickinson

By Emily Dickinson

There is a word
    Which bears a sword
    Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables, — 
    At once is mute again.
But where it fell
The saved will tell
    Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun,
    Wherever roams the day,
There is its noiseless onset,
    There is its victory!

Behold the keenest marksman!
    The most accomplished shot!
Time's sublimest target
    Is a soul 'forgot'!

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