![[Poetry X Logo]](http://poetryx.com/images/poetryXLogo.gif)
In many and reportless places
Emily Dickinson
1382 In many and reportless places We feel a Joy— Reportless, also, but sincere as Nature Or Deity— It comes, without a consternation— Dissolves—the same— But leaves a sumptuous Destitution— Without a Name— Profane it by a search—we cannot It has no home— Nor we who having once inhaled it— Thereafter roam.
