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Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.

916

His Feet are shod with Gauze—
His Helmet, is of Gold,
His Breast, a Single Onyx
With Chrysophrase, inlaid.

His Labor is a Chant—
His Idleness—a Tune—
Oh, for a Bee's experience
Of Clovers, and of Noon!

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 5:53 AM | Viewed: 4978 times

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