Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

Who robbed the woods,
The trusting woods?
The unsuspecting trees
Brought out their burrs and mosses
His fantasy to please.
He scanned their trinkets, curious,
He grasped, he bore away.
What will the solemn hemlock,
What will the fir-tree say?

1. Precedence
2. Unto My Books So Good to Turn
3. The Lovers
4. The Only Ghost I Ever Saw
5. Their Height in Heaven Comforts Not

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