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Classic poem

Except to Heaven, she is nought.

by Emily Dickinson

Except to Heaven, she is nought.

Except for Angels -- lone.

Except to some wide-wandering Bee

A flower superfluous blown.

Except for winds -- provincial.

Except by Butterflies

Unnoticed as a single dew

That on the Acre lies.

The smallest Housewife in the grass,

Yet take her from the Lawn

And somebody has lost the face

That made Existence -- Home!

naturedeathsolitudefaith
Public domain/Source

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