Emily Dickinson

I’ll Tell You How The Sun Rose

I’ll tell you how the sun rose, – A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, That must have been the sun! But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile. Which little yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while Till when they reached the other side, A dominie in gray Put gently up the evening bars, And led the flock away.

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