Emily Dickinson Poem

How happy is the little Stone

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How happy is the little Stone

That rambles in the Road alone,

And doesn’t care about Careers

And Exigencies never fears—

Whose Coat of elemental Brown

A passing Universe put on,

And independent as the Sun

Associates or glows alone,

Fulfilling absolute Decree

In casual simplicity—

How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine
How happy I was if I could forget

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