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Sexton! my Master’s Sleeping Here

96
 
Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here.
Pray lead me to his bed!
I came to build the Bird’s nest,
And sow the Early seed—
 
That when the snow creeps slowly
From off his chamber door—
Daisies point the way there—
And the Troubadour.
Other works by Emily Dickinson ...



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