An altered look about the hills -
A Tyrian light the village fills -
A wider sunrise in the morn
A deeper twilight on the lawn -
A print of a vermillion foot -
A purple finger on the slope
A flippant fly upon the pane -
A spider at his trade again -
An added strut in Chanticleer -
A flower expected everywhere
An axe shrill singing in the woods
Fern odors on untravelled roads
All this and more I cannot tell
A furtive look you know as well
And Nicodemus' Mystery
Receives it's annual reply
Emily Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...