Emily Dickinson - 67 lyrics

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Emily Dickinson - 67 lyrics

Late at night, dear Child, but I cant help thinking of you, and am so afraid you are sick - come home tomorrow, Austin, if you are not perfectly sure that you shall be well right away, for you must not suffer there - Vinnie has got her message - We did not get the answer from you - I must not write another word, but Austin, come home, remember, if you are not better right away. Love for you. Emilie.

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