by Emily Dickinson
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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < As by the dead we love to sit
As imperceptibly as grief > > >
As children bid the guest good-night
As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.
As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.
< < < As by the dead we love to sit
As imperceptibly as grief > > >
American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
Copyright holders – Public Domain
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