Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Almost!

Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered through the village,
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected violets
Within the fields lie low,
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago.

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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