Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series One by Emily Dickinson
page 17 of 92 (18%)
page 17 of 92 (18%)
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I know some lonely houses off the road
A robber 'd like the look of, -- Wooden barred, And windows hanging low, Inviting to A portico, Where two could creep: One hand the tools, The other peep To make sure all's asleep. Old-fashioned eyes, Not easy to surprise! How orderly the kitchen 'd look by night, With just a clock, -- But they could gag the tick, And mice won't bark; And so the walls don't tell, None will. A pair of spectacles ajar just stir -- An almanac's aware. Was it the mat winked, Or a nervous star? The moon slides down the stair To see who's there. There's plunder, -- where? Tankard, or spoon, Earring, or stone, |
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