Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

New feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A troubadour upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.

New children play upon the green,
New weary sleep below;
And still the pensive spring returns,
And still the punctual snow!

1. On the Tleakness of My Lot
2. Possession
3. The Moon Is Distant from the Sea
4. The Oriole
5. Triumph

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