Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 27

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He ate and drank the precious words,

His spirit grew robust;

He knew no more that he was poor,

Nor that his frame was dust.

He danced along the dingy days,

And this bequest of wings

Was but a book. What liberty

A loosened spirit brings!