Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 267

Table of Contents

As by the dead we love to sit,

Become so wondrous dear,

As for the lost we grapple,

Though all the rest are here, —

In broken mathematics

We estimate our prize,

Vast, in its fading ratio,

To our penurious eyes!