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He found my Being—set it up—
Adjusted it to place—
Then carved his name—upon it—
And bade it to the East
Be faithful—in his absence—
And he would come again—
With Equipage of Amber—
That time—to take it Home—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Good To Hide, And Hear 'Em Hunt!
- He Outstripped Time With But A Bout
- Midsummer, Was It, When They Died
- Must Be A Woe
- Publication—is The Auction