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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 12, Poema 4
IV.
We
cover
thee,
sweet
face.
Not
that
we
tire
of
thee,
But
that
thyself
fatigue
of
us;
Remember,
as
thou
flee,
We
follow
thee
until
Thou
notice
us
no
more,
And
then,
reluctant,
turn
away
To
con
thee
o'er
and
o'er,
And
blame
the
scanty
love
We
were
content
to
show,
Augmented,
sweet,
a
hundred
fold
If
thou
would'st
take
it
now.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana