A Day

XXII. A DAY.

I'll tell you how the sun rose, — A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun !" But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile Which little yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while Till when they reached the other side, A dominie in gray Put gently up the evening bars, And led the flock away.

 

from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)
The Mountain	"The butterfly's assumption-gown"

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.