I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town,
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down.
And then they grew so jolly
I did resign the prig,
And ten of my once stately toes
Are marshalled for a jig!
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Deprived Of Other Banquet
- Expectation—is Contentment
- Truth—is As Old As God
- Arcturus
- Except The Heaven Had Come So Near