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Tuesday, May 22, 2007
I gave myself to him,  
And took himself for pay.  
The solemn contract of a life  
Was ratified this way.  
   
The wealth might disappoint,  
        
Myself a poorer prove  
Than this great purchaser suspect,  
The daily own of Love  
   
Depreciate the vision; 
 
But, till the merchant buy, 
         
Still fable, in the isles of spice,  
The subtle cargoes lie. 
 
   
At least, ’t is mutual risk,— 
 
Some found it mutual gain;  
Sweet debt of Life,—each night to owe,    
      
Insolvent, every noon. 
-Emily Dickinson
Labels: Emily Dickinson, romance
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