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Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whippowil
And Oriole–are done!
For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o’er!
Pray gather me–
Anemone–
Thy flower–forevermore!
~~ Emily Dickinson, c. summer 1858
The Wilderness Road 
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