Poems: Third Series/Contrast

by Emily Dickinson

 

XXVIII.

CONTRAST.

A DOOR just opened on a street—
I, lost, was passing by—
An instant's width of warmth disclosed,
And wealth, and company.

The door as sudden shut, and I,
I, lost, was passing by,—
Lost doubly, but by contrast most,
Enlightening misery.