A loss of something ever felt I —
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(960) As plan for Noon and plan for Night→ |
A loss of something ever felt I —
The first that I could recollect
Bereft I was — of what I knew not
Too young that any should suspect
A Mourner walked among the children
I notwithstanding went about
As one bemoaning a Dominion
Itself the only Prince cast out —
Elder, Today, a session wiser
And fainter, too, as Wiseness is —
I find myself still softly searching
For my Delinguent Palaces —
And a Suspicion, like a Finger
Touches my Forehead now and then
That I am looking oppositely
For the site of the Kingdom of Heaven —
| Poetry by Emily Dickinson (edit list): | |
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