(113) THE luxury to apprehend The luxury ’t would be To look at thee a single time, An Epicure of me, In whatsoever Presence, makes, Till, for a further food I scarcely recollect to starve, So first am I supplied. The luxury to meditate The luxury it was To banquet on thy Countenance, A sumptuousness bestows On plainer days, Whose table, far as Certainty can see, Is laden with a single crumb— The consciousness of Thee.
-Emily Dickinson