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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 3, Poema 9
IX.
THE
GRASS.
The
grass
so
little
has
to
do,
—
A
sphere
of
simple
green,
With
only
butterflies
to
brood,
And
bees
to
entertain,
And
stir
all
day
to
pretty
tunes
The
breezes
fetch
along,
And
hold
the
sunshine
in
its
lap
And
bow
to
everything;
And
thread
the
dews
all
night,
like
pearls,
And
make
itself
so
fine,
—
A
duchess
were
too
common
For
such
a
noticing.
And
even
when
it
dies,
to
pass
In
odors
so
divine,
As
lowly
spices
gone
to
sleep,
Or
amulets
of
pine.
And
then
to
dwell
in
sovereign
barns,
And
dream
the
days
away,
—
The
grass
so
little
has
to
do,
I
wish
I
were
the
hay!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana