Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

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.

1. A Poor Torn Heart, a Tattered Heart
2. Delight Becomes Pictorial
3. A Thought Went up My Mind To-day
4. Is Heaven a Physician?
5. Too Much

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