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The Robins my Criterion for Tune

 The Robin's my Criterion for Tune --
Because I grow -- where Robins do --
But, were I Cuckoo born --
I'd swear by him --
The ode familiar -- rules the Noon --
The Buttercup's, my Whim for Bloom --
Because, we're Orchard sprung --
But, were I Britain born,
I'd Daisies spurn --
None but the Nut -- October fit --
Because, through dropping it,
The Seasons flit -- I'm taught --
Without the Snow's Tableau
Winter, were lie -- to me --
Because I see -- New Englandly --
The Queen, discerns like me --
Provincially --

Poem by Emily Dickinson
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Book: Shattered Sighs