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: 27 May 2012 6:39 AM | Viewed: 5892 times
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