Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1533 On that specific Pillow Our projects flit away— The Night's tremendous Morrow And whether sleep will stay Or usher us—a stranger— To situations new The effort to comprise it Is all the soul can do. Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 1 Dec 2008 11:54 PM | Viewed: 4895 times
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