Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
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—
Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:00 PM | Viewed: 10249 times
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