679 <br /> <br />Conscious am I in my Chamber, <br />Of a shapeless friend— <br />He doth not attest by Posture— <br />Nor Confirm—by Word— <br /> <br />Neither Place—need I present Him— <br />Fitter Courtesy <br />Hospitable intuition <br />Of His Company— <br /> <br />Presence—is His furthest license— <br />Neither He to Me <br />Nor Myself to Him—by Accent— <br />Forfeit Probity— <br /> <br />Weariness of Him, were quainter <br />Than Monotony <br />Knew a Particle—of Space's <br />Vast Society <br /> <br />Neither if He visit Other— <br />Do He dwell—or Nay—know I— <br />But Instinct esteem Him <br />Immortality—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/conscious-am-i-in-my-chamber/
