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Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Five: The Single Hound CXXXIV |
| THAT she forgot me was the least, | |
| I felt it second pain, | |
| That I was worthy to forget | |
| What most I thought upon. | |
| Faithful, was all that I could boast, | 5 |
| But Constancy became, | |
| To her, by her innominate, | |
| A something like a shame. |
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