by Emily Dickinson
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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < My Rose
Nature rarer uses yellow > > >
Nature’s Changes
The springtime’s pallid landscape
Will glow like bright bouquet,
Though drifted deep in parian
The village lies to-day.
The lilacs, bending many a year,
With purple load will hang;
The bees will not forget the tune
Their old forefathers sang.
The rose will redden in the bog,
The aster on the hill
Her everlasting fashion set,
And covenant gentians frill,
Till summer folds her miracle
As women do their gown,
Or priests adjust the symbols
When sacrament is done.
< < < My Rose
Nature rarer uses yellow > > >
American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
Copyright holders – Public Domain
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