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Poems by Emily Dickinson: Vanished

by EmilyDickinson
Ghosts
Precedence

Vanished

Vanished

She died, — this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.
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