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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 48
XLVIII.
To
my
books
I
turn
At
the
end
of
tired
days;
It
makes
the
wait
sweet,
And
pain
is
lost
in
praise.
Like
flavors
cheer
slow
guests
With
banquets
to
come,
So
spices
cheer
the
time
Till
my
small
library.
It
may
be
wild
outside,
Far
feet
of
tired
men,
But
holiday
keeps
night
away,
And
it
rings
with
bells
inside.
I
thank
these
friends
on
the
shelf;
Their
kind
faces
Make
me
happy
to
see
them,
And,
when
found,
they
satisfy.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana