It’s Like the Light,—, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

It’s Like the Light,—

It’s like the light,—

A fashionless delight

It’s like the bee,—

A dateless melody.

It’s like the woods,

Private like breeze,

Phraseless, yet it stirs

The proudest trees.

It’s like the morning,—

Best when it’s done,—

The everlasting clocks

Chime noon.

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Emily Dickinson