large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb_65
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_3_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
Who built this little Alban house And shut the windows down so close My spirit cannot see? Who 'll let me out some gala day, With implements to fly away, Passing pomposity? WHO BUILT THIS LITTLE ALBAN HOUSE AND SHUT THE WINDOWS DOWN SO CLOSE MY SPIRIT CANNOT SEE WHO'LL LET ME OUT SOME GALA DAY WITH IMPLEMENTS TO FLY AWAY PASSING POMPOSITY
ead; And now you 've littered all the East With duds of emerald! And still she plies her spotted brooms, And still the aprons fly, Till brooms fade softly into stars -- And then I come away. XLI. Like mighty footlights burned the red At bases of the trees, -- The far theatricals of day Exhibiting to these. 'T was universe that did applaud While, chiefest of the crowd, Enabled by his royal dress, Myself distinguished God. XLII. PROBLEMS. Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning's flagons up, And say how many dew; Tell me how far the morning leaps, Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadths of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new robin's ecstasy Among astonished boughs; How many trips the tortoise makes, How many cups the bee partakes, -- The debauchee of dews! Also, who laid the rainbow's piers, Also, who leads the docile spheres By withes of supple blue? Whose fingers string the stalactite, Who counts the wampum of the night, To see that none is due? G IN YOU DROPPED AN AMBER THREAD AND NOW YOU'VE LITTERED ALL THE EAST WITH DUDS OF EMERALD AND STILL SHE PLIES HER SPOTTED BROOMS AND STILL THE APRONS FLY TILL BROOMS FADE SOFTLY INTO STARS AND THEN I COME AWAY FORTY ONE LIKE MIGHTY FOOTLIGHTS BURNED THE RED AT BASES OF THE TREES THE FAR THEATRICALS OF DAY EXHIBITING TO THESE TWAS UNIVERSE THAT DID APPLAUD WHILE CHIEFEST OF THE CROWD ENABLED BY HIS ROYAL DRESS MYSELF DISTINGUISHED GOD FORTY TWO PROBLEMS BRING ME THE SUNSET IN A CUP RECKON THE MORNINGS FLAGONS UP AND SAY HOW MANY DO TELL ME HOW FAR THE MORNING LEAPPS TELL ME WHAT TIME THE WEAVER SLEEPS WHO SPUN THE BREADTHS OF BLUE WRITE ME HOW MANY NOTES THERE BE IN THE NEW ROBIN'S ECSTASY AMONG ASTONISHED BOUGHS HOW MANY TRIPS THE TORTOISE MAKES HOW MANY CUPS THE BEE PARTAKES THE DEBAUCHEE OF DEWS ALSO WHO LAID THE RAINBOW'S PEERS ALSO WHO LEADS THE DOCILE SPHERES BY WITHES OF SUPPLE BLUE WHOSE FINGERS STRIKE THE STALACT TIGHT WHO COUNTS THE WAMPUM OF THE NIGHT TO SEE THAT NONE IS DUE
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