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I play at Riches-to appease
The Clamoring for Gold-
It kept me from a Thief, I think,
For often, overbold
With Want, and Opportunity-
I could have done a Sin
And been Myself that easy Thing
An independent Man-
But often as my lot displays
Too hungry to be borne
I deem Myself what I would be-
And novel Comforting
My Poverty and I derive-
We question if the Man-
Who own-Esteem the Opulence-
As We-Who never Can-
Should ever these exploring Hands
Chance Sovereign on a Mine-
Or in the long-uneven term
To win, become their turn-
How fitter they will be-for Want-
Enlightening so well-
I know not which, Desire, or Grant-
Be wholly beautiful-
I Play At Riches-to Appease
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: beautiful, never, poverty, desire, grant, long, play, question, chance, gold, easy, hungry, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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