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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 7, Poema 40
XLVII.
SUMMER'S
OBSEQUIES.
The
gentian
shows
her
blue
edges,
The
maple
turns
red.
My
flowers
leave
quietly
Without
a
big
show.
A
short,
patient
sickness,
An
hour
to
get
ready;
And
someone
below
today
Is
now
with
the
angels.
It
was
a
small
group—
The
bobolink
was
there,
An
old
bee
spoke
to
us,
Then
we
prayed.
We
hope
she
wanted
this—
We
ask
to
be
ready
too.
Summer,
sister,
angel,
Let
us
go
with
you!
In
the
name
of
the
bee,
And
the
butterfly,
And
the
breeze,
amen!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana