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Like Time's insidious wrinkle
On a beloved Face
We clutch the Grace the tighter
Though we resent the crease
The Frost himself so comely
Dishevels every prime
Asserting from his Prism
That none can punish him
Like Time's Insidious Wrinkle
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: time, frost, face, prime, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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