< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - third series (1896).djvu
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POEMS.
XXXVII. LOST JOY.
T HAD a daily bliss
- I half indifferent viewed,
Till sudden I perceived it stir, It grew as I pursued,
Till when, around a crag, It wasted from my sight,
Enlarged beyond my utmost scope, I learned its sweetness right.
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