large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb_43
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
The birds put up the bars to nests, The cattle fled to barns; There came one drop of giant rain, And then, as if the hands That held the dams had parted hold, The waters wrecked the sky, But overlooked my father's house, Just quartering a tree. THE BIRDS PUT UP THE BARS TO NESTS THE CATTLE FLED TO BARNS THERE CAME ONE DROP OF GIANT RAIN AND THEN AS IF THE HANDS THAT HELD THE DAMS HAD PARTED HOLD THE WATER WRECKED THE SKY BUT OVERLOOKED MY FATHER'S HOUSE JUST QUARTERING A TREE
e if time was there. Nature was in her beryl apron, Mixing fresher air. XXXV. THE RAT. The rat is the concisest tenant. He pays no rent, -- Repudiates the obligation, On schemes intent. Balking our wit To sound or circumvent, Hate cannot harm A foe so reticent. Neither decree Prohibits him, Lawful as Equilibrium. XXXVI. Frequently the woods are pink, Frequently are brown; Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town. Oft a head is crested I was wont to see, And as oft a cranny Where it used to be. And the earth, they tell me, On its axis turned, -- Wonderful rotation By but twelve performed! XXXVII. A THUNDER-STORM. The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low, -- He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves from trees And started all abroad; The dust did scoop itself like hands And throw away the road. The wagons quickened on the streets, The thunder hurried slow; The lightning showed a yellow beak, And then a livid claw. ST STOLE OUT OF HIS COVERT TO SEE IF TIME WAS THERETURE WAS IN HER BURL APRON MIXING FRESHER AIR THIRTY FIVE THE RAT THE RAT IS THE CONCISEST TENANT HE PAYS NO RENT REPUDIATES THE OBLIGATION ON SCHEMED INTENT BULKING OUR WIT TO SOUND OR CIRCUMVENT HATE CANNOT HARM A FOE SO RETICENT NEITHER DECREE PROHIBITS HIM LAWFUL AS EQUILIBRIUM THIRTY SIX FREQUENTLY THE WOODS ARE PINK FREQUENTLY ARE BROWN FREQUENTLY THE HILLS UNDRESS BEHIND MY NATIVE TOWN OFT AHEAD IS CRESTED I WAS WONT TO SEE AND AS OFT A CRANNY WHERE IT USED TO BE AND THE EARTH THEY TELL ME ON ITS AXIS TURNED WONDERFUL ROTATION BY BUT TWELVE PERFORMED THIRTY SEVEN A THUNDERSTORM THE WIND BEGUN TO ROCK THE GRASS WITH THREATENING TUNES AND LO HE FLUNG A MENACE AT THE EARTH A MENACE AT THE SKY THE LEAVES UNHOOKED THEMSELVES FROM TREES AND STARTED ALL ABROAD THE DUST DID SCOOP ITSELF LIKE HANDS AND THROW AWAY THE ROAD THE WAGONS QUICKENED ON THE STREETS THE THUNDER HURRIED SLOW THE LIGHTNING SHOWED A YELLOW BEAK AND THEN A LIVID CLAW
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