Emily Dickinson

Is Bliss Then, Such Abyss

poem 340

Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot Than save my Boot For yet to buy another Pair Is possible, At any store But Bliss, is sold just once. The Patent lost None buy it any more Say, Foot, decide the point The Lady cross, or not? Verdict for Boot!

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