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" "I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine.
'Twas this on tables I had seen
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.
I did not know the ample bread,
'Twas so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's diningroom.
The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new, — Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.
Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Virtually unknown in her lifetime, Dickinson has come to be regarded as one of the greatest American poets of the 19th century. Although she wrote (at latest count) 1789 poems, only a few of them were published in her lifetime, all anonymously, and some perhaps without her knowledge.
Biography information from Wikiquote
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It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness — I'm so accustomed to my Fate — Perhaps the Other — Peace — Would interrupt the Dark — And crowd the little Room — Too scant — by Cubits — to contain
The Sacrament — of Him — I am not used to Hope — It might intrude upon — Its sweet parade — blaspheme the place — Ordained to Suffering — It might be easier
To fail — with Land in Sight — Than gain — My Blue Peninsula — To perish — of Delight — F535 (1863) J405