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1600 Upon his Saddle sprung a Bird And crossed a thousand Trees Before a Fence without a Fare His Fantasy did please And then he lifted up his Throat And squandered such a Note A Universe that overheard Is stricken by it yet—
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Upon his Saddle sprung a Bird
1600 Upon his Saddle sprung a Bird And crossed a thousand Trees Before a Fence without a Fare His Fantasy did please And then he lifted up his Throat And squandered such a Note A Universe that overheard Is stricken by it yet—
Emily Dickinson
1830 - 1886/Female/American