Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||
162
[XXIV. This was in the white of the year]
This was in the white of the year,
That was in the green,
Drifts were as difficult then to think
As daisies now to be seen.
That was in the green,
Drifts were as difficult then to think
As daisies now to be seen.
Looking back is best that is left,
Or if it be before,
Retrospection is prospect's half,
Sometimes almost more.
Or if it be before,
Retrospection is prospect's half,
Sometimes almost more.
Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||