Emily Dickinson (183086). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Five: The Single Hound
CXXVII
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| ON my volcano grows the grass, | |
| A meditative spot, | |
| An area for a bird to choose | |
| Would be the general thought. | |
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| How red the fire reeks below, | 5 |
| How insecure the sod | |
| Did I disclose, would populate | |
| With awe my solitude. | |
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