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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 13
XIII.
MEMORIALS.
Death
makes
a
thing
important
The
eye
had
passed
by,
Except
a
vanished
creature
Beg
us
tenderly
To
ponder
small
creations
In
crayon
or
in
wool,
With
"This
was
last
her
fingers
did,"
Industrious
until
The
thimble
grew
too
heavy,
The
stitches
stopped
themselves,
And
then
it
was
placed
among
the
dust
Upon
the
closet
shelves.
A
book
I
have,
a
friend
gave,
Whose
pencil,
here
and
there,
Had
marked
the
spot
that
pleased
him,
—
At
rest
his
fingers
are.
Now,
when
I
read,
I
read
not,
For
tears
interrupt
And
erase
the
etchings
Too
precious
for
repairs.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana