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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=385616" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fitter to see Him, I may be</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">968</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fitter to see Him, I may be<br>For the long Hindrance—Grace—to Me—<br>With Summers, and with Winters, grow,<br>Some passing Year—A trait bestow</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To make Me fairest of the Earth—<br>The Waiting—then—will seem so worth<br>I shall impute with half a pain<br>The blame that I was chosen—then—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Time to anticipate His Gaze—<br>It's first—Delight—and then—Surprise—<br>The turning o'er and o'er my face<br>For Evidence it be the Grace—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He left behind One Day—So less<br>He seek Conviction, That—be This—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only must not grow so new<br>That He'll mistake—and ask for me<br>Of me—when first unto the Door<br>I go—to Elsewhere go no more—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only must not change so fair<br>He'll sigh—"The Other—She—is Where?"<br>The Love, tho', will array me right<br>I shall be perfect—in His sight—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If He perceive the other Truth—<br>Upon an Excellenter Youth—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How sweet I shall not lack in Vain—<br>But gain—thro' loss—Through Grief—obtain—<br>The Beauty that reward Him best—<br>The Beauty of Demand—at Rest—</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Dickinson">Emily Dickinson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=385616" data-title="Fitter to see Him, I may be de Emily Dickinson" data-description="968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to Me— With Summers, and with Winters, grow, Some passing Year—A trait bestow To make Me fairest of the Earth— The Waiting—then—will seem so w..."></div> </div> </div>
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