940

On that dear Frame the Years had worn
Yet precious as the House
In which We first experienced Light
The Witnessing, to Us—

Precious! It was conceiveless fair
As Hands the Grave had grimed
Should softly place within our own
Denying that they died.

Emily Dickinson

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-that-dear-frame-the-years-had-worn/