“The bee is not afraid of me”

VII.

The bee is not afraid of me, I know the butterfly ; The pretty people in the woods Receive me cordially. The brooks laugh louder when I come, The breezes madder play. Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists ? Wherefore, O summer's day ?

 

from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)
A Service of Song	Summer's Armies

Sort by date Sort by score

Enable comment auto-refresher

Add your comment

ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.