Now no joy but lacks salt
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain
Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.
Authentication Score 3
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Original Citation
Frost, Robert. "To Earthward." New Hampshire. Henry Holt, 1923, st. 5, I. 1.
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Current Citation
Frost, Robert. "To Earthward." Robert Frost: Collected Poems, Prose, and Plays, edited by Richard Poirier and Mark Richardson. Library of America, 1995, st. 5, I. 1.
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