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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