27 <br /> <br />Morns like these—we parted— <br />Noons like these—she rose— <br />Fluttering first—then firmer <br />To her fair repose. <br /> <br />Never did she lisp it— <br />It was not for me— <br />She—was mute from transport— <br />I—from agony— <br /> <br />Till—the evening nearing <br />One the curtains drew— <br />Quick! A Sharper rustling! <br />And this linnet flew!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morns-like-these-we-parted/
