Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1382 In many and reportless places We feel a Joy— Reportless, also, but sincere as Nature Or Deity— It comes, without a consternation— Dissolves—the same— But leaves a sumptuous Destitution— Without a Name— Profane it by a search—we cannot It has no home— Nor we who having once inhaled it— Thereafter roam. Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:21 PM | Viewed: 7194 times
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Emily Dickinson
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