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99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude. New children play upon the green— New Weary sleep below— And still the pensive Spring returns— And still the punctual snow!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:05 PM | Viewed: 9039 times
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Emily Dickinson
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