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<h1>A THUNDER-STORM.</h1>
<h2>by EMILY DICKINSON</h2>
<br/>
The wind begun to rock the grass<br/>
With threatening tunes and low, —<br/>
He flung a menace at the earth,<br/>
A menace at the sky.<br/>
<br/>
The leaves unhooked themselves from trees<br/>
And started all abroad;<br/>
The dust did scoop itself like hands<br/>
And throw away the road.<br/>
<br/>
The wagons quickened on the streets,<br/>
The thunder hurried slow;<br/>
The lightning showed a yellow beak,<br/>
And then a livid claw.<br/>
<br/>
The birds put up the bars to nests,<br/>
The cattle fled to barns;<br/>
There came one drop of giant rain,<br/>
And then, as if the hands<br/>
<br/>
That held the dams had parted hold,<br/>
The waters wrecked the sky,<br/>
But overlooked my father's house,<br/>
Just quartering a tree.<br/>
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