Trudging To Eden, Looking Backward

Emily Dickinson

1020

Trudging to Eden, looking backward,
I met Somebody’s little Boy
Asked him his name—He lisped me “Trotwood”—
Lady, did He belong to thee?

Would it comfort—to know I met him—
And that He didn’t look afraid?
I couldn’t weep—for so many smiling
New Acquaintance—this Baby made—

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