Spring comes on the World -
I sight the Aprils -
Hueless to me until thou come
As, till the Bee
Blossoms stand negative,
Touched to Conditions
By a Hum.
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- I Would Distil A Cup
- It Would Never Be Common—more—i Said
- Forbidden Fruit A Flavor Has
- Judgment is justest
- Hope is a strange invention