As By The Dead We Love To Sit

88

As by the dead we love to sit,
Become so wondrous dear—
As for the lost we grapple
Tho' all the rest are here—

In broken mathematics
We estimate our prize
Vast—in its fading ration
To our penurious eyes!

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (1)

Love her choice of words. Always a delight.