<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=385753" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I learned—at least—what Home could be</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">944</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I learned—at least—what Home could be—<br>How ignorant I had been<br>Of pretty ways of Covenant—<br>How awkward at the Hymn</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Round our new Fireside—but for this—<br>This pattern—of the Way—<br>Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip<br>Of a Celestial Sea—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What Mornings in our Garden—guessed—<br>What Bees—for us—to hum—<br>With only Birds to interrupt<br>The Ripple of our Theme—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Task for Both—<br>When Play be done—<br>Your Problem—of the Brain—<br>And mine—some foolisher effect—<br>A Ruffle—or a Tune—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Afternoons—Together spent—<br>And Twilight—in the Lanes—<br>Some ministry to poorer lives—<br>Seen poorest—thro' our gains—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then Return—and Night—and Home—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And then away to You to pass—<br>A new—diviner—care—<br>Till Sunrise take us back to Scene—<br>Transmuted—Vivider—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This seems a Home—<br>And Home is not—<br>But what that Place could be—<br>Afflicts me—as a Setting Sun—<br>Where Dawn—knows how to be—</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=385753" data-title="I learned—at least—what Home could be de Emily Dickinson" data-description="944 I learned—at least—what Home could be— How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn Round our new Fireside—but for this— This pattern—of the Way— Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip Of a Celest..."></div> </div> </div>

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