large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb_49
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
Each one salutes me as he goes, And I my childish plumes Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment Of their unthinking drums. EACH ONE SALUTES ME AS HE GOES AND I MY CHILDISH PLUMES LIFT IN BEREAVED ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THEIR UNTHINKING DRUMS
rds, Departing like a pageant Of ballads and of bards. I never thought that Jason sought For any golden fleece; But then I am a rural man, With thoughts that make for peace. But if there were a Jason, Tradition suffer me Behold his lost emolument Upon the apple-tree. XIV. IN SHADOW. I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I 'm accustomed to him grown, -- He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live Till that first shout got by, Not all pianos in the woods Had power to mangle me. I dared not meet the daffodils, For fear their yellow gown Would pierce me with a fashion So foreign to my own. I wished the grass would hurry, So when 't was time to see, He 'd be too tall, the tallest one Could stretch to look at me. I could not bear the bees should come, I wished they 'd stay away In those dim countries where they go: What word had they for me? They 're here, though; not a creature failed, No blossom stayed away In gentle deference to me, The Queen of Calvary. ENDOUR OF A BURMAH THE METEOR OF BIRDS DEPARTING LIKE A PAGEANT OF BALLADS AND OF BARDS I NEVER THOUGHT THAT JASON SOUGHT FOR ANY GOLDEN FLEECE BUT THEN I AM A RURAL MAN WITH THOUGHTS THAT MAKE FOR PEACE BUT IF THERE WERE A JASON TRADITION SUFFER ME BEHOLD HIS LOST EMOLUMENT UPON THE APPLE TREE FOURTEEN IN SHADOW I DREADED THAT FIRST ROBIN SO BUT HE IS MASTERED NOW AND I AM ACCUSTOMED TO HIM GROWN HE HURTS A LITTLE THOUGH I THOUGHT IF I COULD ONLY LIVE TILL THAT FIRST SHOUT GOT BY NOT ALL PIANOS IN THE WOODS HAD POWER TO MANGLE ME I DARED NOT MEET THE DAFFODILS FOR FEAR THEIR YELLOW GOWN WOULD PIERCE ME WITH A FASHION SO FOREIGN TO MY OWN I WISHED THE GRASS WOULD HURRY SO WHEN TWAS TIME TO SEE HE'D BE TOO TALL THE TALLEST ONE COULD STRETCH TO LOOK AT ME I COULD NOT BEAR THE BEES SHOULD COME I WISHED THEY'D STAY AWAY IN THOSE DIM COUNTRIES WHERE THEY GO WHAT WORD HAD THEY FOR ME THERE HERE THOUGH NOT A CREATURE FAILED NO BLOSSOM STAYED AWAY IN GENTLE DEFERENCE TO ME THE QUEEN OF CALVARY
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