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1830–1886

IX.

Emily Dickinson

A train went through a burial gate, A bird broke forth and sang, And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat Till all the churchyard rang;

And then adjusted his little notes, And bowed and sang again. Doubtless, he thought it meet of him To say good-by to men.

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IX. · Emily Dickinson · Poetry Cove