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

848

Just as He spoke it from his Hands
This Edifice remain—
A Turret more, a Turret less
Dishonor his Design—

According as his skill prefer
It perish, or endure—
Content, soe'er, it ornament
His absent character.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 3 Dec 2008 8:55 PM | Viewed: 5094 times

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