A Route of Evanescence
With a revolving Wheel--
A Resonance of Emerald--
A Rush of Cochineal--
And every Blossom on the Bush
Adjusts its tumbled Head--
The mail from Tunis, probably,
An easy Morning's Ride--
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup
- A Still—volcano—life
- My Life Closed Twice
- We Grow Accustomed To The Dark
- By The Sea