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Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a "Diver"—
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home—
I—a Sparrow—build there
Sweet of twigs and twine
My perennial nest.
Her Breast Is Fit For Pearls
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: heart, home, sweet, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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