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Read the poem: “The Bee”

by Emily Dickinson

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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
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The bee is not afraid of me > > >

The Bee

Like trains of cars on tracks of plush

I hear the level bee:

A jar across the flowers goes,

Their velvet masonry

Withstands until the sweet assault

Their chivalry consumes,

While he, victorious, tilts away

To vanquish other blooms.

His feet are shod with gauze,

His helmet is of gold;

His breast, a single onyx

With chrysoprase, inlaid.

His labor is a chant,

His idleness a tune;

Oh, for a bee’s experience

Of clovers and of noon!


< < < The Battle-Field
The bee is not afraid of me > > >

American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson

Copyright holders –  Public Domain

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