846
Twice had Summer her fair Verdure
Proffered to the Plain—
Twice a Winter's silver Fracture
On the Rivers been—
Two full Autumns for the Squirrel
Bounteous prepared—
Nature, Had'st thou not a Berry
For thy wandering Bird?
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- These Are The Days When Birds Come Back
- To This World She Returned
- Why Do They Shut Me Out of Heaven?
- If Your Nerve, Deny You
- Unto Me? I Do Not Know You—