Emily Dickinson Poems

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I tried to think a lonelier Thing
Than any I had seen --
Some Polar Expiation -- An Omen in the Bone
Of Death's tremendous nearness --

I probed Retrieverless things
My Duplicate -- to borrow --
A Haggard Comfort springs

From the belief that Somewhere --
Within the Clutch of Thought --
There dwells one other Creature
Of Heavenly Love -- forgot --

I plucked at our Partition
As One should pry the Walls --
Between Himself -- and Horror's Twin --
Within Opposing Cells --

I almost strove to clasp his Hand,
Such Luxury -- it grew --
That as Myself -- could pity Him --
Perhaps he -- pitied me --

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