Emily Dickinson Poem

While we were fearing it, it came

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While we were fearing it, it came –
But came with less of fear
Because that fearing it so long
Had almost made it fair –

There is a Fitting – a Dismay –
A Fitting – a Despair
‘Tis harder knowing it is Due
Than knowing it is Here.

The Trying on the Utmost
The Morning it is New
Is Terribler than wearing it
A whole existence through –

Which misses most
White as an Indian Pipe

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