Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

Our share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Our blank in scorning.

Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way.
Here a mist, and there a mist,
Afterwards — day!

1. Going
2. I Have a King Who Does Not Speak
3. I Know a Place Where Summer Strives
4. Pompless No Life Can Pass Away
5. Saturday Afternoon

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