large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb_117
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
It is not of the bird Who sings the same, unheard, As unto crowd. The fashion of the ear Attireth that it hear In dun or fair. So whether it be rune, Or whether it be none, Is of within; The "tune is in the tree," The sceptic showeth me; "No, sir! In thee!" XIII. IT IS NOT OF THE BIRD WHO SINGS THE SAME UNHEARD AS UNTO CROWD THE FASHION OF THE EAR ATTIRETH THAT IT HEAR IN DONE OR FAIR SO WHETHER IT BE RUNE OR WHETHER IT BE NONE IS OF WITHIN THE TUNE IS IN THE TREE THE SCEPTIC SHOWETH ME NO SIR IN THEE THIR
 and aster, Anemone and bell, Batschia in the blanket red, And chubby daffodil." Meanwhile at many cradles Her busy foot she plied, Humming the quaintest lullaby That ever rocked a child. "Hush! Epigea wakens! -- The crocus stirs her lids, Rhodora's cheek is crimson, -- She's dreaming of the woods." Then, turning from them, reverent, "Their bed-time 't is," she said; "The bumble-bees will wake them When April woods are red." XI. MY ROSE. Pigmy seraphs gone astray, Velvet people from Vevay, Belles from some lost summer day, Bees' exclusive coterie. Paris could not lay the fold Belted down with emerald; Venice could not show a cheek Of a tint so lustrous meek. Never such an ambuscade As of brier and leaf displayed For my little damask maid. I had rather wear her grace Than an earl's distinguished face; I had rather dwell like her Than be Duke of Exeter Royalty enough for me To subdue the bumble-bee! XII. THE ORIOLE'S SECRET. To hear an oriole sing May be a common thing, Or only a divine. TO WAKE THE FIRST LITTLE LEONIDADON TIS IRIS SIR AND ASTOR ANEMONNE AND BELL BATHSHEA IN THE BLANKET RED AND CHUBBY DAFFODIL MEANWHILE AT MANY CRADLES HER BUSY FOOT SHE PLIED HUMMING THE QUAINTEST LULLABY THAT EVER ROCKED A CHILD HUSH EPIGEA WAKENS THE CROCUS STIRS HER LIDS RHODORA'S CHEEK IS CRIMSON SHE'S DREAMING OF THE WOODS THENING FROM THEM REVERENT THEIR BEDTIME TIS SHE SAID THE BUMBLE BEES WILL WAKE THEM WHEN APRIL WOODS ARE RED ELEVEN MY ROSE PIGMY SERAPHS GONE ASTRAY VELVET PEOPLE FROM VEVET BELLS FROM SOME LOST SUMMER DAY BEES EXCLUSIVE COTERIE PARIS COULD NOT LAY THE FOLD BELTED DOWN WITH EMERALD VENICE COULD NOT SHOW A CHEEK OF A TINT SO LUSTROUS MEEK NEVER SUCH AN AMBUSCADE AS OF BRIAR AND LEAF DISPLAYED FOR MY LITTLE DAMASK MAID I HAD RATHER WEAR HER GRACE THAN AN EARL'S DISTINGUISHED FACE I HAD RATHER DWELL LIKE HER THAN BE DUKE OF EXETER ROYALTY ENOUGH FOR ME TO SUBDUE THE BUMBLE BEE TWELVE THE ORIOLES SECRET TO HEAR AN ORIOLE SING MAY BE A COMMON THING OR ONLY A DIVINE
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