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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 54 of 446 · First Series: Nature

Poem 10

— ✻ —

A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.

If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh, -- no vehicle
Bears me along that way.

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