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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 333 of 446 · Third Series: Life

Poem 52

— ✻ —

Is bliss, then, such abyss
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?

I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my boot,
For yet to buy another pair
Is possible
At any fair.

But bliss is sold just once;
The patent lost
None buy it any more.

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