Emily Dickinson Poems >>
The Trees like Tassels-hit-

606

The Trees like Tassels-hit-and swung-
There seemed to rise a Tune
From Miniature Creatures
Accompanying the Sun-

Far Psalteries of Summer-
Enamoring the Ear
They never yet did satisfy-
Remotest-when most fair

The Sun shone whole at intervals-
Then Half-then utter hid-
As if Himself were optional
And had Estates of Cloud

Sufficient to enfold Him
Eternally from view-
Except it were a whim of His
To let the Orchards grow-

A Bird sat careless on the fence-
One gossipped in the Lane
On silver matters charmed a Snake
Just winding round a Stone-

Bright Flowers slit a Calyx
And soared upon a Stem
Like Hindered Flags-Sweet hoisted-
With Spices-in the Hem-

'Twas more-I cannot mention-
How mean-to those that see-
Vandyke's Delineation
Of Nature's-Summer Day!