Angels, in the early morning
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Angels, in the early morning
May be seen the Dews among,
Stooping—plucking—smiling&m dash;flying—
Do the Buds to them belong?
Angels, when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping—plucking—sighing&m dash;flying—
Parched the flowers they bear along.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Added by Poetry Lover
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