547
I've seen a Dying Eye
Run round and round a Room—
In search of Something—as it seemed—
Then Cloudier become—
And then—obscure with Fog—
And then—be soldered down
Without disclosing what it be
'Twere blessed to have seen—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- I Cross Till I Am Weary
- When I Was Small, A Woman Died
- I Envy Seas, Whereon He Rides
- I Had No Cause To Be Awake
- Some Rainbow—coming From The Fair!