Unto my books so good to turn

Emily Dickinson

1830 to 1886

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And satisfy, obtained.
It half endears the abstinence,
And pain is missed in praise.
Far ends of tired days;
But holiday excludes the night,
Till my small library.
So spices stimulate the time
I thank these kinsmen of the shelf;
Unto my books so good to turn
And it is bells within.
As flavors cheer retarded guests
It may be wilderness without,
Far feet of failing men,
Their countenances bland
With banquetings to be,
Enamour in prospective,

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