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I wish I knew that woman's name

by Emily Dickinson, 1896

I wish I knew that woman's name,
  So, when she comes this way,
To hold my life, and hold my ears,
  For fear I hear her say

She's 'sorry I am dead,' again,
  Just when the grave and I
Have sobbed ourselves almost to sleep, —
  Our only lullaby.

Published in Poems by Emily Dickinson: Third Series

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