From Free media library
| Of nearness to her sundered Things
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| Written by: | Emily Dickinson (other works)
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| Poem #: | 607
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| Published: |
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| Volume: |
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| Language: | English
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| Type: | Poetry
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| Form: |
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| Rhyme: |
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| Preceded by: | The Trees like Tassels -- hit -- and swung -- -606-
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| Succeeded by: | Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? -608-
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Wikipedia article
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Of nearness to her sundered Things
The Soul has special times --
When Dimness -- looks the Oddity --
Distinctness -- easy -- seems --
The Shapes we buried, dwell about,
Familiar, in the Rooms --
Untarnished by the Sepulchre,
The Mouldering Playmate comes --
In just the Jacket that he wore --
Long buttoned in the Mold
Since we -- old mornings, Children -- played --
Divided -- by a world --
The Grave yields back her Robberies --
The Years, our pilfered Things --
Bright Knots of Apparitions
Salute us, with their wings --
As we -- it were -- that perished --
Themself -- had just remained till we rejoin them --
And 'twas they, and not ourself
That mourned.
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