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Emily Dickinson's Collected Poems

Part Four: Time and Eternity 41. Let down the bars, O Death!

Let down the bars, O Death!

The tired flocks come in

Whose bleating ceases to repeat,

Whose wandering is done.


Thine is the stillest night,

Thine the securest fold;

Too near thou art for seeking thee,

Too tender to be told.

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