Trudging to Eden, looking backward,

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Trudging to Eden, looking backward,
I met Somebody's little Boy
Asked him his name -- He lisped me "Trotwood" --
Lady, did He belong to thee?

Would it comfort -- to know I met him --
And that He didn't look afraid?
I couldn't weep -- for so many smiling
New Acquaintance -- this Baby made --

© Emily Dickinson