Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 218
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XV. The Humming-Bird
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A route of evanescence
With a revolving wheel;
A resonance of emerald,
A rush of cochineal;
And every blossom on the bush
Adjusts its tumbled head, —
The mail from Tunis, probably,
An easy morning's ride.
