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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 319 of 446 · Third Series: Life

Poem 38

— ✻ —

I worked for chaff, and earning wheat
Was haughty and betrayed.
What right had fields to arbitrate
In matters ratified?

I tasted wheat, -- and hated chaff,
And thanked the ample friend;
Wisdom is more becoming viewed
At distance than at hand.

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