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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 46
XLVI.
Heart
not
as
heavy
as
mine,
Heading
home
late,
As
it
passed
my
window
Whistled
its
own
tune,
—
A
casual
song,
a
ballad,
A
simple
street
ditty;
Yet
to
my
troubled
ear
A
relief
so
sweet,
It
was
as
if
a
bobolink,
Strolling
this
way,
Sang
and
pondered
and
sang,
Then
slowly
drifted
away.
It
was
as
if
a
babbling
brook
On
a
weary
path
Set
tired
feet
to
dancing
Without
knowing
why.
Tomorrow,
night
will
come
again,
Weary,
perhaps,
and
sore.
Ah,
bugle,
by
my
window,
I
hope
you
pass
once
more!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana