Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

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I think that the Root of the Wind is Water —
It would not sound so deep
Were it a Firmamental Product —
Airs no Oceans keep —
Mediterranean intonations —
To a Current's Ear —
There is a maritime conviction
In the Atmosphere —

1. Contrast
2. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. Who Robbed the Woods
5. Disenchantment

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