The Secret

XIV. THE SECRET.

Some things that fly there be, — Birds, hours, the bumble-bee : Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be, — Grief, hills, eternity : Nor this behooveth me. There are, that resting, rise. Can I expound the skies ? How still the riddle lies !

 

from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)
Exclusion	The Lonely House

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