The things we thought that we should do
The things we thought that we should do
We other things have done
But those peculiar industries
Have never been begun --
The Lands we thought that we should seek
When large enough to run
By Speculation ceded
To Speculation's Son --
The Heaven, in which we hoped to pause
When Discipline was done
Untenable to Logic
But possibly the one --
Poem by
Emily Dickinson
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