Emily Dickinson Poem

The Road was lit with Moon and star —

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The Road was lit with Moon and star —
The Trees were bright and still —
Descried I — by the distant Light
A Traveller on a Hill —
To magic Perpendiculars
Ascending, though Terrene —
Unknown his shimmering ultimate —
But he indorsed the sheen —

The Robin is a Gabriel
The Road to Paradise is plain

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