Emily Dickinson Poem

In rags mysterious as these

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In rags mysterious as these
The shining Courtiers go—
Veiling the purple, and the plumes—
Veiling the ermine so.

Smiling, as they request an alms—
At some imposing door!
Smiling when we walk barefoot
Upon their golden floor!

In Winter in my Room ❄
In lands I never saw—they say 🏞

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