Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

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

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