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. The Riddle We Can Guess
2. Playmates
3. Resurgam
4. The Martyrs
5. Surgeons Must Be Very Careful

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