Childish Griefs
By Emily Dickinson
Softened by Time’s consummate plush,
How sleek the woe appears
That threatened childhood’s citadel
And undermined the years!
Bisected now by bleaker griefs,
We envy the despair
That devastated childhood’s realm,
So easy to repair.
Copyright © by the owner.
Related Posts:
- A Certain Slant Of Light (258) By Emily Dickinson
- There Is No Frigate Like A Book (1286) By Emily Dickinson
- It Was Not Death, For I Stood Up By Emily Dickinson
- Wild Nights — Wild Nights! By Emily Dickinson
- I Like To See It Lap The Miles By Emily Dickinson
- I Heard A Fly Buzz When I Died By Emily Dickinson