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Water makes many Beds
For those averse to sleep-
Its awful chamber open stands-
Its Curtains blandly sweep-
Abhorrent is the Rest
In undulating Rooms
Whose Amplitude no end invades-
Whose Axis never comes.
Water Makes Many Beds
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: never, sleep, water, open, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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