Emily Dickinson - I think just how my shape will rise lyrics

237 I think just how my shape will rise When I shall be "forgiven" Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Head Are out of sight—in Heaven I think just how my lips will weigh With shapeless—quivering—prayer That you—so late—"Consider" me The "Sparrow" of your Care I mind me that of Anguish—sent Some drifts were moved away Before my simple bosom—broke And why not this—if they? And so I con that thing—"forgiven" Until—delirious—borne By my long bright—and longer—trust I drop my Heart—unshriven!