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In rags mysterious as these
The shining Courtiers go—
Veiling the purple, and the plumes—
Veiling the ermine so.
Smiling, as they request an alms—
At some imposing door!
Smiling when we walk barefoot
Upon their golden floor!
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Too Little Way The House Must Lie
- Love Reckons By Itself—alone
- Unto Like Story—trouble Has Enticed Me
- Love&Mdash;Is Anterior To Life
- I Came To Buy A Smile—today