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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 10, Poema 12
XII.
THE
MASTER.
He
fumbles
at
your
spirit
As
players
at
the
keys
Before
they
drop
full
music
on;
He
stuns
you
by
degrees,
Prepares
your
brittle
substance
For
the
ethereal
blow,
By
fainter
hammers,
further
heard,
Then
nearer,
then
so
slow
Your
breath
has
time
to
straighten,
Your
brain
to
bubble
cool,
—
Deals
one
imperial
thunderbolt
That
scalps
your
naked
soul.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana