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Lyric Poem · Nature

Our little Kinsmen—after Rain

by Emily Dickinson

Our little Kinsmen — after Rain

In plenty may be seen,

A Pink and Pulpy multitude

The tepid Ground upon.

A needless life, it seemed to me

Until a little Bird

As to a Hospitality

Advanced and breakfasted.

As I of He, so God of Me

I pondered, may have judged,

And left the little Angle Worm

With Modesties enlarged.

This poem is in the public domain.

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