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I had a guinea golden–
I lost it in the sand–
And tho’ the sum was simple
And pounds were in the land–
Still had it such a value
Unto my frugal eye–
That when I could not find it–
I sat me down to sigh.

I had a crimson Robin–
Who sang full many a day
But when the woods were painted–
He–too–did fly away–
Time brought me other Robins–
Their ballads were the same–
Still, for my missing Troubador
I kept the “house at hame”.

I had a star in heaven–
One “Pleiad” was its name–
And when I was not heeding,
It wandered from the same–
And tho’ the skies are crowded–
And all the night ashine–
I do not care about it–
Since none of them are mine.

My story has a moral–
I have a missing friend–
“Pleiad” its name–and Robin–
And guinea in the sand–
And when this mournful ditty
Accompanied with a tear–
Shall meet the eye of traitor
In country far from here–
Grant that repentance solemn
May seize upon his mind–
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.
~~ Emily Dickinson, c. summer 1858