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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 22
XXII.
THE
JOURNEY.
Our
journey
had
progressed;
Our
feet
were
nearly
there
To
that
strange
fork
in
Being's
road,
Eternity
by
term.
Our
pace
took
sudden
awe,
Our
feet
reluctantly
led.
Before
were
cities,
but
between,
The
forest
of
the
dead.
Retreat
was
out
of
hope,
—
Behind,
a
sealed
path,
Eternity's
white
flag
ahead,
And
God
at
every
gate.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B2 Inglés | Cuentana