A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink

A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink—
I hunted all the Sand—
I caught the Dripping of a Rock
And bore it in my Hand—

His Mighty Balls—in death were thick—
But searching—I could see
A Vision on the Retina
Of Water—and of me—

'Twas not my blame—who sped too slow—
'Twas not his blame—who died
While I was reaching him—
But 'twas—the fact that He was dead—

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

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"A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 21 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/11426>.

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