Emily Dickinson: A Field of Stubble, lying sere Beneath the second
A Field of Stubble, lying sere
Beneath the second Sun -
It's Toils to Brindled People thrust -
It's Triumphs - to the Bin -
Accosted by a timid Bird
Irresolute of Alms -
Is often seen - but seldom felt,
On our New England Farms.
Emily Dickinson
Pi� citazioni 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...