Emily Dickinson Poems

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The Bird did prance -- the Bee did play --
The Sun ran miles away
So blind with joy he could not choose
Between his Holiday

The morn was up -- the meadows out
The Fences all but ran,
Republic of Delight, I thought
Where each is Citizen --

From Heavy laden Lands to thee
Were seas to cross to come
A Caspian were crowded --
Too near thou art for Fame --

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