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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 407 of 446 · Third Series: Time and Eternity

Poem 20

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Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast; Grant, God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest.

Please God, might I behold him In epauletted white, I should not fear the foe then, I should not fear the fight.

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