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She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away—
Intending to return—
But not so soon—
Her merry Arms, half dropt—
As if for lull of sport—
An instant had forgot—
The Trick to start—
Her dancing Eyes—ajar—
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun—at you—
Her Morning at the door—
Devising, I am sure—
To force her sleep—
So light—so deep—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Those Who Have Been In The Grave The Longest
- We—bee And I—live By The Quaffing
- Why Make It Doubt—it Hurts It So
- The Wind Didn'T Come From The Orchard—today
- This Chasm, Sweet, Upon My Life