Morns like these — we parted —
Emily Dickinson
[1858]
Noons like these — she rose —
Fluttering first — then firmer
To her fair repose.
Never did she lisp it —
It was not for me —
She — was mute from transport —
I — from agony —
Till — the evening nearing
One the curtains drew —
Quick! A sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!
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