< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu
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POEMS. 229
XLI. THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE.
AFTER a hundred years Nobody knows the place,- Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace.
Weeds triumphant ranged, Strangers strolled and spelled At the lone orthography Of the elder dead.
Winds of summer fields Recollect the way,- Instinct picking up the key Dropped by memory.
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