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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 3 of 446 · First Series: Life

Rouge Et Noir

— ✻ —

Soul, wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost, indeed,
But tens have won an all.

Angels' breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee;
Imps in eager caucus
Raffle for my soul.

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