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Contents > Author > Emily Dickinson > The Trees like Tassels--hit--and swung-- 1830- 1886
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Emily Dickinson
The Trees like Tassels--hit--and swung--
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The Trees like Tassels -- hit -- and swung --
There seemed to rise a Tune
From Miniature Creatures
Accompanying the Sun --

Far Psalteries of Summer --
Enamoring the Ear
They never yet did satisfy --
Remotest -- when most fair

The Sun shone whole at intervals --
Then Half -- then utter hid --
As if Himself were optional
And had Estates of Cloud

Sufficient to enfold Him
Eternally from view --
Except it were a whim of His
To let the Orchards grow --

A Bird sat careless on the fence --
One gossipped in the Lane
On silver matters charmed a Snake
Just winding round a Stone --

Bright Flowers slit a Calyx
And soared upon a Stem
Like Hindered Flags -- Sweet hoisted --
With Spices -- in the Hem --

'Twas more -- I cannot mention --
How mean -- to those that see --
Vandyke's Delineation
Of Nature's -- Summer Day!


(#606)

 

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