Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
940 On that dear Frame the Years had worn Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Light The Witnessing, to Us— Precious! It was conceiveless fair As Hands the Grave had grimed Should softly place within our own Denying that they died.
Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:25 PM | Viewed: 7441 times
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