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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 11, Poema 5
V.
TO
MARCH.
Dear
March,
come
in!
How
glad
I
am!
I
waited
for
you
long.
Put
down
your
hat
—
You
must
have
walked
—
You
seem
out
of
breath!
Dear
March,
how
are
you?
And
the
rest?
Did
you
leave
Nature
well?
Oh,
March,
come
upstairs
with
me,
I
have
so
much
to
tell!
I
got
your
letter,
and
the
birds';
The
maples
never
knew
That
you
were
coming,
—
truly,
How
red
their
faces
grew!
But,
March,
forgive
me
—
And
all
those
hills
You
left
for
me
to
color;
There
was
no
purple
left,
You
took
it
all
with
you.
Who
knocks?
That
April!
Lock
the
door!
I
won't
be
chased!
He
stayed
away
a
year,
to
come
When
I'm
busy.
But
small
things
seem
so
trivial
Once
you
have
arrived,
That
blame
is
as
dear
as
praise
And
praise
as
mere
as
blame.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana