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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 3, Poema 9
IX.
THE
GRASS.
The
grass
has
little
to
do,
—
A
sphere
of
simple
green,
With
only
butterflies
to
brood,
And
bees
to
entertain,
And
sway
all
day
to
gentle
tunes
The
breezes
carry
along,
And
cradle
the
sunshine
in
its
lap
And
bow
to
everything;
And
thread
the
dews
all
night,
like
pearls,
And
make
itself
so
fine,
—
A
duchess
would
be
too
common
For
such
a
noticing.
And
even
in
death,
it
passes
With
scents
so
divine,
As
humble
spices
gone
to
rest,
Or
amulets
of
pine.
And
then
to
reside
in
splendid
barns,
And
dream
the
days
away,
—
The
grass
has
so
little
to
do,
I
wish
I
were
the
hay!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C1 Inglés | Cuentana