This Was In The White Of The Year - Poem by Emily Dickinson
This was in the White of the Year—
That—was in the Green—
Drifts were as difficult then to think
As Daisies now to be seen—
Looking back is best that is left
Or if it be—before—
Retrospection is Prospect's half,
Sometimes, almost more.
Comments about This Was In The White Of The Year by Emily Dickinson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.