The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man Fr1679 by Emily Dickinson Lyrics
The Ditch is dear to the Drunken man
For is it not his Bed - his Advocate - his Edifice -
How safe his fallen Head
In her disheveled Sanctity -
Above him is the sky -
Oblivion bending over him
And Honor leagues away -
For is it not his Bed - his Advocate - his Edifice -
How safe his fallen Head
In her disheveled Sanctity -
Above him is the sky -
Oblivion bending over him
And Honor leagues away -