886
These tested Our Horizon—
Then disappeared
As Birds before achieving
A Latitude.
Our Retrospection of Them
A fixed Delight,
But our Anticipation
A Dice—a Doubt—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- My Best Acquaintances Are Those
- When Katie Walks, This Simple Pair Accompany Her Side
- The Lamp Burns Sure—within
- Not That We Did, Shall Be The Test
- Morns Like These—we Parted