As Watchers hang upon the East -
As Beggars revel at a feast
By savory fancy spread -
As Brooks in Deserts, babble sweet
On Ear too far for the delight -
Heaven beguiles the tired.
As that same Watcher, when the East
Opens the lid of Amethyst
And lets the morning go -
That Beggar, when an honored Guest -
Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed -
Heaven to us, if true.
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...