430 <br /> <br />It would never be Common—more—I said— <br />Difference—had begun— <br />Many a bitterness—had been— <br />But that old sort—was done— <br /> <br />Or—if it sometime—showed—as 'twill— <br />Upon the Downiest—Morn— <br />Such bliss—had I—for all the years— <br />'Twould give an Easier—pain— <br /> <br />I'd so much joy—I told it—Red— <br />Upon my simple Cheek— <br />I felt it publish—in my Eye— <br />'Twas needless—any speak— <br /> <br />I walked—as wings—my body bore— <br />The feet—I former used— <br />Unnecessary—now to me— <br />As boots—would be—to Birds— <br /> <br />I put my pleasure all abroad— <br />I dealth a word of Gold <br />To every Creature—that I met— <br />And Dowered—all the World— <br /> <br />When—suddenly—my Riches shrank— <br />A Goblin—drank my Dew— <br />My Palaces—dropped tenantless— <br />Myself—was beggared—too— <br /> <br />I clutched at sounds— <br />I groped at shapes— <br />I touched the tops of Films— <br />I felt the Wilderness roll back <br />Along my Golden lines— <br /> <br />The Sackcloth—hangs upon the nail— <br />The Frock I used to wear— <br />But where my moment of Brocade— <br />My—drop—of India?<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-would-never-be-common-more-i-said/
