Emily Dickinson

Have You Got A Brook In Your Little Heart

poem 136

Have you got a Brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink, And shadows tremble so And nobody knows, so still it flows, That any brook is there, And yet your little draught of life Is daily drunken there Why, look out for the little brook in March, When the rivers overflow, And the snows come hurrying from the fills, And the bridges often go And later, in August it may be When the meadows parching lie, Beware, lest this little brook of life, Some burning noon go dry!

Don't have an account?

You will be identified by the alias - name will be hidden
user