Emily Dickinson

A Loss Of Something Ever Felt I

poem 959

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

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