I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there —
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler —

I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner’s name —
For doubt, that I should know the Sound —

I judged my features — jarred my hair —
I pushed my dimples by, and waited —
If they — twinkled back —
Conviction might, of me —

I told myself, “Take Courage, Friend —
That — was a former time —
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!”

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3 Comments

  1. frumpo says:

    My old self was happy, but I feel myself changing. I am thinking of choosing the way of God, and I may learn to like it, right?

  2. sean says:

    I read that this was about the death of Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

  3. monica delone says:

    This was an alsome poem, i loved it because i needed something to put my pieces of heart together and i did not know how until i read this peom i love her so much i am going to read more about her!

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