Poemsby Emily Dickinson

XXXIX

 Good night! which put the candle out? A jealous zephyr, not a doubt.    Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick The angels labored diligent;    Extinguished, now, for you! 
 It might have been the lighthouse spark Some sailor, rowing in the dark,    Had importuned to see! It might have been the waning lamp That lit the drummer from the camp    To purer reveille!