< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu
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190 POEMS.
- IX.
- THE BATTLE-FIELD.
THEY dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
Like petals from a rose,
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers goes.
They perished in the seamless grass, —
No eye could find the place;
But God on his repealless list
Can summon every face.
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