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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 31
XXXI.
PRECEDENCE.
Wait
till
the
majesty
of
Death
Touches
so
simple
a
brow!
Almost
a
powdered
servant
Might
dare
to
touch
it
now!
Wait
till
in
endless
robes
This
common
man
is
dressed,
Then
talk
about
"rank"
And
"position"
and
the
rest!
Around
this
quiet
man
Respectful
angels
wait!
Full
royal
is
his
group,
Full
purple
is
his
state!
A
lord
might
dare
to
lift
the
hat
To
such
a
humble
clay,
Since
that
my
Lord,
"the
Lord
of
lords"
Receives
with
no
shame!
Went
up
a
year
this
evening!
I
remember
it
well!
There
were
no
bells
or
cheers,
The
people
will
tell!
Happy,
like
going
to
the
village,
Calm,
like
going
to
rest,
Quiet,
like
going
to
the
chapel,
This
simple
traveler
rose.
He
did
not
talk
of
coming
back,
Did
not
say
when,
If
the
winds
were
good,
We
might
see
him
again;
He
was
thankful
for
the
flowers
In
life's
mixed
bouquet,
He
spoke
softly
of
new
kinds
To
pick
another
day.
Talking
like
this,
the
wonder,
The
wonder
came
closer;
Hands
worked
at
the
ropes
—
The
crowd
grew
respectful.
He
went
from
our
sight
To
new
faces!
A
change,
a
daisy,
Is
all
I
knew!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana