Some Things That Fly There Be - Poem by Emily Dickinson
Some things that fly there be—
Of these no Elegy.
Some things that stay there be—
Nor this behooveth me.
There are that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the Riddle lies!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You