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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 17
XVII.
THE
RAILWAY
TRAIN.
I
like
to
see
it
lap
the
miles,
And
lick
the
valleys
up,
And
stop
to
feed
itself
at
tanks;
And
then,
prodigious,
step
Around
a
pile
of
mountains,
And,
supercilious,
peer
In
shanties
by
the
sides
of
roads;
And
then
a
quarry
pare
To
fit
its
sides,
and
crawl
between,
Complaining
all
the
while
In
horrid,
hooting
stanza;
Then
chase
itself
down
hill
And
neigh
like
Boanerges;
Then,
punctual
as
a
star,
Stop
—
docile
and
omnipotent
—
At
its
own
stable
door.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana