Poems by Emily Dickinson-3
XVI.

Emily Dick

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Not with a club the heart is broken,

Nor with a stone;

A whip, so small you could not see it.

I've known

To lash the magic creature

Till it fell,

Yet that whip's name too noble

Then to tell.

Magnanimous of bird

By boy descried,

To sing unto the stone

Of which it died.

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