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The Brain, within its Groove
Runs evenly—and true—
But let a Splinter swerve—
'Twere easier for You—
To put a Current back—
When Floods have slit the Hills—
And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves—
And trodden out the Mills—
The Brain, Within Its Groove
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: current, brain, true, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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