Emily Dickinson - It ceased to hurt me, though so slow lyrics

584 It ceased to hurt me, though so slow I could not feel the Anguish go But only knew by looking back That something—had benumbed the Track Nor when it altered, I could say For I had worn it, every day As constant as the Childish frock I hung upon the Peg, at night But not the Grief—that nestled close As needles—ladies softly press To Cushions Cheeks To keep their place Nor what consoled it, I could trace Except, whereas 'twas Wilderness It's better—almost Peace