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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 46
XLVI.
Heart
not
heavy
like
mine,
Going
home
late,
As
it
passed
my
window
It
whistled
a
tune,
—
A
simple
song,
a
street
song;
Yet
to
my
tired
ear
It
was
so
sweet,
It
was
like
a
bird,
Walking
this
way,
Singing
and
thinking
and
singing,
Then
slowly
flying
away.
It
was
like
a
small
brook
On
a
hard
road
Made
tired
feet
dance
Without
knowing
why.
Tomorrow,
night
will
come
again,
Tired,
maybe,
and
sore.
Ah,
bugle,
by
my
window,
Please
come
once
more!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana