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Poemsby Emily Dickinson

XIX
XXI

XX

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish, — some way back,
I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I 've met the thing before;
It just reminded me — 't was all —
And came my way no more.