MORNS LIKE THESE WE PARTED
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
- ORNS like these we parted;
- Noons like these she rose,
- Fluttering first, then firmer,
- To her fair repose.
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- Never did she lisp it,
- And 'twas not for me;
- She was mute from transport,
- I, from agony!
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- Till the evening, nearing,
- One the shutters drew--
- Quick! a sharper rustling!
- And this linnet flew!
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