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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=385765" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I measure every Grief I meet (561)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I measure every Grief I meet<br>With narrow, probing, Eyes--<br>I wonder if It weighs like Mine--<br>Or has an Easier size.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wonder if They bore it long--<br>Or did it just begin--<br>I could not tell the Date of Mine--<br>It feels so old a pain--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wonder if it hurts to live--<br>And if They have to try--<br>And whether--could They choose between--<br>It would not be--to die--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I note that Some--gone patient long--<br>At length, renew their smile-- <br>An imitation of a Light<br>That has so little Oil--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wonder if when Years have piled-- <br>Some Thousands--on the Harm-- <br>That hurt them early--such a lapse<br>Could give them any Balm-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or would they go on aching still<br>Through Centuries of Nerve--<br>Enlightened to a larger Pain-- <br>In Contrast with the Love-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Grieved--are many--I am told-- <br>There is the various Cause-- <br>Death--is but one--and comes but once-- <br>And only nails the eyes-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's Grief of Want--and grief of Cold-- <br>A sort they call "Despair"-- <br>There's Banishment from native Eyes--<br>In Sight of Native Air-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And though I may not guess the kind-- <br>Correctly--yet to me<br>A piercing Comfort it affords<br>In passing Calvary-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To note the fashions--of the Cross-- <br>And how they're mostly worn-- <br>Still fascinated to presume<br>That Some--are like My Own--</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=385765" data-title="I measure every Grief I meet (561) de Emily Dickinson" data-description="I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes-- I wonder if It weighs like Mine-- Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long-- Or did it just begin-- I could not tell the Date of Mine-- It feels so old a pain-- I wonder if it..."></div> </div> </div>
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