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Life—is what we make of it
Emily Dickinson
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though— He—would trust no stranger— Other—could betray— Just His own endorsement— That—sufficeth Me— All the other Distance He hath traversed first— No New Mile remaineth— Far as Paradise— His sure foot preceding— Tender Pioneer— Base must be the Coward Dare not venture—now—
