653
Of Being is a Bird
The likest to the Down
An Easy Breeze do put afloat
The General Heavens—upon—
It soars—and shifts—and whirls—
And measures with the Clouds
In easy—even—dazzling pace—
No different the Birds—
Except a Wake of Music
Accompany their feet—
As did the Down emit a Tune—
For Ecstasy—of it
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- We Cover Thee—sweet Face
- Good Night, Because We Must
- The Good Will Of A Flower
- Our Share Of Night To Bear
- Joy To Have Merited The Pain