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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 184 of 446 · Second Series: Love

Poem 12

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In lands I never saw, they say, Immortal Alps look down, Whose bonnets touch the firmament, Whose sandals touch the town, --

Meek at whose everlasting feet A myriad daisies play. Which, sir, are you, and which am I, Upon an August day?

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