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Midsummer, Was It, When They Died

Emily Dickinson

962

Midsummer, was it, when They died-
A full, and perfect time-
The Summer closed upon itself
In Consummated Bloom-

The Corn, her furthest kernel filled
Before the coming Flail-
When These-leaned unto Perfectness-
Through Haze of Burial-

(C) Emily Dickinson
01/01/2000


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