Emily Dickinson (183086). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Two: Nature
LXIII
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| A SOMETHING in a summers day, | |
| As slow her flambeaux burn away, | |
| Which solemnizes me. | |
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| A something in a summers noon, | |
| An azure depth, a wordless tune, | 5 |
| Transcending ecstasy. | |
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| And still within a summers night | |
| A something so transporting bright, | |
| I clap my hands to see; | |
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| Then veil my too inspecting face, | 10 |
| Lest such a subtle, shimmering grace | |
| Flutter too far for me. | |
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| The wizard-fingers never rest, | |
| The purple brook within the breast | |
| Still chafes its narrow bed; | 15 |
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| Still rears the East her amber flag, | |
| Guides still the sun along the crag | |
| His caravan of red, | |
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| Like flowers that heard the tale of dews, | |
| But never deemed the dripping prize | 20 |
| Awaited their low brows; | |
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| Or bees, that thought the summers name | |
| Some rumor of delirium | |
| No summer could for them; | |
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| Or Arctic creature, dimly stirred | 25 |
| By tropic hint,some travelled bird | |
| Imported to the wood; | |
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| Or winds bright signal to the ear, | |
| Making that homely and severe, | |
| Contented, known, before | 30 |
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| The heaven unexpected came, | |
| To lives that thought their worshipping | |
| A too presumptuous psalm. | |
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