On that specific Pillow/Our projects flit away/The Night’s tremendous Morrow/And whether sleep will stay/Or usher us, a stranger/To situations new/The effort to comprise it/Is all the soul can do.
(Emily Dickinson)
On that specific Pillow/Our projects flit away/The Night’s tremendous Morrow/And whether sleep will stay/Or usher us, a stranger/To situations new/The effort to comprise it/Is all the soul can do.
(Emily Dickinson)