A Dew Sufficed Itself

A DEW sufficed itself 
  And satisfied a leaf, 
And felt, ‘how vast a destiny! 
  How trivial is life!’ 
The sun went out to work,        
  The day went out to play, 
But not again that dew was seen 
  By physiognomy. 
Whether by day abducted, 
  Or emptied by the sun        
Into the sea, in passing, 
  Eternally unknown.

By: Emily Dickinson

Poem no. XCIX from Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson