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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 1, Poema 10
X.
IN
A
LIBRARY.
A
precious,
mouldering
pleasure
't
is
To
meet
an
antique
book,
In
just
the
dress
his
century
wore;
A
privilege,
I
think,
His
venerable
hand
to
take,
And
warming
in
our
own,
A
passage
back,
or
two,
to
make
To
times
when
he
was
young.
His
quaint
opinions
to
inspect,
His
knowledge
to
unfold
On
what
concerns
our
mutual
mind,
The
literature
of
old;
What
interested
scholars
most,
What
competitions
ran
When
Plato
was
a
certainty.
And
Sophocles
a
man;
When
Sappho
was
a
living
girl,
And
Beatrice
wore
The
gown
that
Dante
deified.
Facts,
centuries
before,
He
traverses
familiar,
As
one
should
come
to
town
And
tell
you
all
your
dreams
were
true;
He
lived
where
dreams
were
sown.
His
presence
is
enchantment,
You
beg
him
not
to
go;
Old
volumes
shake
their
vellum
heads
And
tantalize,
just
so.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana