Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1236 Like Time's insidious wrinkle On a beloved Face We clutch the Grace the tighter Though we resent the crease The Frost himself so comely Dishevels every prime Asserting from his Prism That none can punish him Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:01 PM | Viewed: 7697 times
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