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Like brooms of steel
The Snow and Wind
Had swept the Winter Street,
The House was hooked,
The Sun sent out
Faint Deputies of heat —
The Apple in the cellar snug
Where rode the Bird
The Silence tied
His ample, plodding Steed,
Was all the one that played.
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Like brooms of steel
The Snow and Wind
Had swept the Winter Street,
The House was hooked,
The Sun sent out
Faint Deputies of heat —
The Apple in the cellar snug
Where rode the Bird
The Silence tied
His ample, plodding Steed,
Was all the one that played.
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Emily Dickinson
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