Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 356

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Softened by Time's consummate plush,

How sleek the woe appears

That threatened childhood's citadel

And undermined the years!

Bisected now by bleaker griefs,

We envy the despair

That devastated childhood's realm,

So easy to repair.