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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 7, Poema 48
XLVIII.
FRINGED
GENTIAN.
God
made
a
little
gentian;
It
tried
to
be
a
rose
And
failed,
and
all
the
summer
laughed.
But
just
before
the
snows
There
came
a
purple
creature
That
charmed
all
the
hill;
And
summer
hid
her
face,
And
mockery
was
still.
The
frosts
were
her
condition;
The
Tyrian
would
not
come
Until
the
North
called
it.
Creator!
shall
I
bloom?
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana