Emily Dickinson

To Learn The Transport By The Pain

poem 167

To learn the Transport by the Pain As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run! To stay the homesick homesick feet Upon a foreign shore Haunted by native lands, the while And blue beloved air! This is the Sovereign Anguish! This the signal woe! These are the patient Laureates Whose voices trained below As cend in ceaseless Carol Inaudible, indeed, To us the duller scholars Of the Mysterious Bard!

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