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The Summer that we did not prize,

By Emily DickinsonSource: Emily Dickinson - PoetryDB (Public Domain)37 words

The Summer that we did not prize,

Her treasures were so easy

Instructs us by departing now

And recognition lazy --

Bestirs itself -- puts on its Coat,

And scans with fatal promptness

For Trains that moment out of sight,

Unconscious of his smartness.

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