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12.30: 320 (There’s a certain Slant of light)

  • Page ID
    125889
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    There’s a certain slant of light,
    On winter afternoons,
    That oppresses, like the weight
    Of cathedral tunes.

    Heavenly hurt it gives us;
    We can find no scar,
    But internal difference
    Where the meanings are.

    None may teach it anything,
    ‘T is the seal, despair,—
    An imperial affliction
    Sent us of the air.

    When it comes, the landscape listens,
    Shadows hold their breath;
    When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
    On the look of death.


    12.30: 320 (There’s a certain Slant of light) is shared under a not declared license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by LibreTexts.

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