940 <br /> <br />On that dear Frame the Years had worn <br />Yet precious as the House <br />In which We first experienced Light <br />The Witnessing, to Us— <br /> <br />Precious! It was conceiveless fair <br />As Hands the Grave had grimed <br />Should softly place within our own <br />Denying that they died.<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-that-dear-frame-the-years-had-worn/
