There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons-
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes-
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us-
We can find no scar,
But internal difference-
Where the Meanings, are-
None may teach it - Any-
'Tis the Seal Despair-
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air-
When it comes, the Landscape listens-
Shadows - hold their breath-
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death-
~Emily Dickinson
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