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A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish, -- some way back,
I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I 've met the thing before;
It just reminded me -- 't was all --
And came my way no more.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886) is considered a major American poet, though she was not accorded this honor until well after her death, when her younger sister discovered and began to share the enormous body of work that Emily left behind. A recluse who almost always wore white, Emily was born to a prominent Massachusetts family and spent the bulk of her life inside her home in Amherst. Only seven of her poems were published during her lifetime, and virtually none were published as originally written until the mid 1950s. (Emily's odd punctuation, capitalization, and formatting did not meet with standard publishing approval for earlier editions.) There is a whimsical nature to many of her poems, although the subject of death was the most frequent recurring theme.
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hdsvergara:
I posted this on my instagram a few years ago. Always a legend.
Posted 08/02/2024 10:53 AM
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paradea:
Bears reading more than once!
Posted 09/23/2022 04:09 PM
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Wilda Morris:
As Larry said, we have all had this experience. And yes, Kay, I laughed, too. Thanks for posting this poem, Jayne.
Posted 09/23/2022 09:50 AM
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Darrell Arnold:
Emily has brought comfort to my mind. I thought I was the only one who had a thought I wanted to dwell on, a thought that wouldn't stay in my mind long enough to fully consider. Try as I might, I couldn't hold onto it, and it just faded away before I could grasp it. I hate when that happens, but I'm relieved knowing I'm not the only one to suffer this situation. I love this poem.
Posted 09/23/2022 09:42 AM
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Kay N. Sanders:
WEll, I laughed and laughed at this, it so described me. Dear Emily.
Posted 09/23/2022 08:49 AM
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Larry Schug:
I think we've all had thoughts or perhaps inspiration pass through us so quickly we just can' grab hold. Yet we realize we had something for just a millisecond. We remember losing it, whatever it was. Cool poem, Emily.
Posted 09/23/2022 08:26 AM
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mail@schoolbusmart.com:
Interesting piece. Read it several times over because of how nice it flows, how smooth and lyrical, how tight the work is, and goes it Ferris like its rhyming but has very few rhymes. And yes, I can relate to it, and it is an interesting topic for a poem from that time period. Randy Mazie
Posted 09/23/2022 08:08 AM
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