Emily Dickinson - Except to Heaven, she is nought.
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Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels -- lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown. Except for winds -- provincial. Except by Butterflies Unnoticed as a single dew That on the Acre lies. The smallest Housewife in the grass, Yet take her from the Lawn And somebody has lost the face That made Existence -- Home! |
