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I Like to See It Lap the Miles
by Emily Dickinson
I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then,prodigious,step
Around a pile of mountains,
And,supercilious,peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare
To fit its sides,and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid,hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill
And neigh like Boanerges;
Then,punctual as a star,
Stop——docile and omnipotent——
At its own stable door. |
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