Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
262 The lonesome for they know not What— The Eastern Exiles—be— Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday— And ever since—the purple Moat They strive to climb—in vain— As Birds—that tumble from the clouds Do fumble at the strain— The Blessed Ether—taught them— Some Transatlantic Morn— When Heaven—was too common—to miss— Too sure—to dote upon!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:30 PM | Viewed: 7573 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...
![[home]](http://plagiarist.com/images/home.gif)
Emily Dickinson
Print
Comments
