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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 352 of 446 · Third Series: Love

Poem 16

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Not with a club the heart is broken, Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see it. I've known

To lash the magic creature Till it fell, Yet that whip's name too noble Then to tell.

Magnanimous of bird By boy descried, To sing unto the stone Of which it died.

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