Emily Dickinson - 1722 Her face was in a bed of hair Text

Songtext zu 1722 Her face was in a bed of hair

Her face was in a bed of hair,
Like flowers in a plot —
Her hand was whiter than the sperm
That feeds the sacred light.
Her tongue more tender than the tune
That totters in the leaves —
Who hears may be incredulous,
Who witnesses, believes.

Emily Dickinson - 1722 Her face was in a bed of hair Songtext

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