Explore "Superfluous were the Sun" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Superfluous were the sun / When excellence is dead; / He were superfluous every day, / For every day is said
That syllable whose faith / Just saves it from despair, / And whose 'I'll meet you' hesitates / If love inquire, 'Where?'
Upon his dateless fame / Our periods may lie, / As stars that drop anonymous / From an abundant sky.