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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 23
XXIII.
A
poor
torn
heart,
a
weary
heart,
That
sat
down
to
rest,
Nor
noticed
that
the
fading
day
Flowed
silver
to
the
west,
Nor
noticed
night
softly
descend
Nor
stars
begin
to
burn,
Focused
on
the
vision
Of
unknown
lands.
The
angels,
passing
by,
This
dusty
heart
saw;
Tenderly
took
it
up
from
toil
And
carried
it
to
God.
There,—sandals
for
the
barefoot;
There,—gathered
from
the
winds,
Do
the
blue
heavens
by
the
hand
Lead
the
wandering
sails.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana