Emily Dickinson Poem

It would not know if it were spurned

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It would not know if it were spurned,
This gallant little flower –
How therefore safe to be a flower
If one would tamper there.

To enter, it would not aspire –
But may it not despair
That it is not a Cavalier,
To dare and perish there?

It’s little Ether Hood
It was not Saint – it was too large

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