It ceased to hurt me, though so slow

It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
I could not feel --[^a1]see the trouble go --
But Only knew by looking back --
That something -- had benumbed (spelled be --[^a2]obscured the Track --

[^a1: feel -- | feel --]

[^a2: benumbed (spelled be -- | benumbed (spelled be --]

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 --