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If those I loved were lost
The Crier's voice would tell me—
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring—
Did those I loved repose
The Daisy would impel me.
Philip—when bewildered
Bore his riddle in!
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- We Like March, His Shoes Are Purple,
- To Die
- With Thee, In The Desert
- Within My Reach!
- I Felt A Cleaving In My Mind