Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series Two by Emily Dickinson
page 41 of 135 (30%)
page 41 of 135 (30%)
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LI.
I gained it so, By climbing slow, By catching at the twigs that grow Between the bliss and me. It hung so high, As well the sky Attempt by strategy. I said I gained it, -- This was all. Look, how I clutch it, Lest it fall, And I a pauper go; Unfitted by an instant's grace For the contented beggar's face I wore an hour ago. LII. To learn the transport by the pain, As blind men learn the sun; To die of thirst, suspecting That brooks in meadows run; |
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