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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 7, Poema 5
V.
Mornings
like
these
we
parted;
Noons
like
these
she
rose,
Flying
first,
then
stronger,
To
her
calm
rest.
She
never
said
it,
And
it
was
not
for
me;
She
was
quiet
from
joy,
I,
from
pain!
Till
the
evening
came,
One
closed
the
shutters
—
Quick!
a
soft
rustling!
And
this
bird
flew!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana