Emily Dickinson

A Something In A Summer’s Day

poem 122

A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon A depth an Azure a perfume Transcending ecstasy. And still within a summer’s night A something so transporting bright I clap my hands to see Then veil my too inspecting face Lets such a subtle shimmering grace Flutter too far for me The wizard fingers never rest The purple brook within the breast Still chafes it narrow bed Still rears the East her amber Flag Guides still the sun along the Crag His Caravan of Red So looking on the night the morn Conclude the wonder gay And I meet, coming thro’ the dews Another summer’s Day!

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