Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn't state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now— But this one, wears its merriment So patient—like a pain— Fresh gilded—to elude the eyes Unqualified, to scan—
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 2 Dec 2008 7:18 PM | Viewed: 5366 times
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