Emily Dickinson Poems >>
My first well Day - since many ill

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My first well Day - since many ill -
I asked to go abroad,
And take the Sunshine in my hands,
And see the things in Pod -

A 'blossom just when I went in
To take my Chance with pain -
Uncertain if myself, or He,
Should prove the strongest One.

The Summer deepened, while we strove -
She put some flowers away -
And Redder cheeked Ones - in their stead -
A fond - illusive way -

To cheat Herself, it seemed she tried -
As if before a child
To fade - Tomorrow - Rainbows held
The Sepulchre, could hide.

She dealt a fashion to the Nut -
She tied the Hoods to Seeds -
She dropped bright scraps of Tint, about -
And left Brazilian Threads

On every shoulder that she met -
Then both her Hands of Haze
Put up - to hide her parting Grace
From our unfitted eyes.

My loss, by sickness - Was it Loss?
Or that Ethereal Gain
One earns by measuring the Grave -
Then - measuring the Sun -