Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 328

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On the bleakness of my lot

Bloom I strove to raise.

Late, my acre of a rock

Yielded grape and maize.

Soil of flint if steadfast tilled

Will reward the hand;

Seed of palm by Lybian sun

Fructified in sand.