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To know just how He suffered-would be dear-
To know if any Human eyes were near
To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze-
Until it settle broad-on Paradise-
To know if He was patient-part content-
Was Dying as He thought-or different-
Was it a pleasant Day to die-
And did the Sunshine face his way-
What was His furthest mind-Of Home-or God-
Or what the Distant say-
At news that He ceased Human Nature
Such a Day-
And Wishes-Had He Any-
Just His Sigh-Accented-
Had been legible-to Me-
And was He Confident until
Ill fluttered out-in Everlasting Well-
And if He spoke-What name was Best-
What last
What One broke off with
At the Drowsiest-
Was He afraid-or tranquil-
Might He know
How Conscious Consciousness-could grow-
Till Love that was-and Love too best to be-
Meet-and the Junction be Eternity
(Emily Dickinson)
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