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Forever—it composed of Nows—
'Tis not a different time—
Except for Infiniteness—
And Latitude of Home—
From this—experienced Here—
Remove the Dates—to These—
Let Months dissolve in further Months—
And Years—exhale in Years—
Without Debate—or Pause—
Or Celebrated Days—
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Domini's—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Summer For Thee, Grant I May Be
- I Like To See It Lap The Miles,
- It Don'T Sound So Terrible—quite—as It Did
- Before He Comes We Weigh The Time!
- Bereaved Of All, I Went Abroad