Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

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I've seen a Dying Eye
Run round and round a Room —
In search of Something — as it seemed —
Then Cloudier become —
And then — obscure with Fog —
And then — be soldered down
Without disclosing what it be
'Twere blessed to have seen.

1. Contrast
2. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. In Lands I Never Saw, They Say
5. Who Robbed the Woods

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