Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

On the bleakness of my lot
  Bloom I strove to raise.
Late, my acre of a rock
  Yielded grape and maize.

Soil of flint if steadfast tilled
  Will reward the hand;
Seed of palm by Lybian sun
  Fructified in sand.

1. Ventures
2. Philosophy
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. Contrast
5. Disenchantment

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