Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods And bore her safe away. Robins, in the tradition Did cover such with leaves, But which the cheek— And which the pall My scrutiny deceives.
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:41 PM | Viewed: 7667 times
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