Cite
 
by EmilyDickinson
Resurgam
XXXI

XXX

 Except to heaven, she is nought;
Except for angels, lone;
Except to some wide-wandering bee,
A flower superfluous blown;
 Except for winds, provincial;
Except by butterflies,
Unnoticed as a single dew
That on the acre lies.
 The smallest housewife in the grass,
Yet take her from the lawn,
And somebody has lost the face
That made existence home!