Emily Dickinson Poem

Not all die early, dying young

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Not all die early, dying young—
Maturity of Fate
Is consummated equally
In Ages, or a Night—

A Hoary Boy, I’ve known to drop
Whole statured—by the side
Of Junior of Fourscore—’twas Act
Not Period—that died.

Not in this world to see his face
Not

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