Emily Dickinson Poem

It Dropped So Low — In My Regard —

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It dropped so low — in my Regard —
I heard it hit the Ground —
And go to pieces on the Stones
At bottom of my Mind —

Yet blamed the Fate that flung it — less
Than I denounced Myself,
For entertaining Plated Wares
Upon My Silver Shelf —

It feels a shame to be Alive
It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did

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