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Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.

618

At leisure is the Soul
That gets a Staggering Blow—
The Width of Life—before it spreads
Without a thing to do—

It begs you give it Work—
But just the placing Pins—
Or humblest Patchwork—Children do—
To Help its Vacant Hands—

Added: 2 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 5:50 AM | Viewed: 5316 times

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