Emily Dickinson Poems

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To her derided Home
A Weed of Summer came --
She did not know her station low
Nor Ignominy's Name --
Bestowed a summer long
Upon a frameless flower --
Then swept as lightly from disdain
As Lady from her Bower --

Of Bliss the Codes are few --
As Jesus cites of Him --
"Come unto me" the moiety
That wafts the Seraphim --

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