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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 329 of 446 · Third Series: Life

Desire

— ✻ —

Who never wanted, -- maddest joy
Remains to him unknown:
The banquet of abstemiousness
Surpasses that of wine.

Within its hope, though yet ungrasped
Desire's perfect goal,
No nearer, lest reality
Should disenthrall thy soul.

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