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The Stars are old, that stood for me-
The West a little worn-
Yet newer glows the only Gold
I ever cared to earn-
Presuming on that lone result
Her infinite disdain
But vanquished her with my defeat
'Twas Victory was slain.
The Stars Are Old, That Stood For Me'
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: gold, victory, infinite, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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