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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 253 of 446 · Second Series: Time and Eternity

Poem 14

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I went to heaven, -- 'T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields At the full dew, Beautiful as pictures No man drew. People like the moth, Of mechlin, frames, Duties of gossamer, And eider names. Almost contented I could be 'Mong such unique Society.

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