Jump to content

Page:Emily Dickinson Poems (1890).djvu/148

From Wikisource
This page has been validated.

XXVIII.

She went as quiet as the dew
From a familiar flower.
Not like the dew did she return
At the accustomed hour!

She dropt as softly as a star
From out my summer's eve;
Less skilful than Leverrier
It's sorer to believe!