Emily Dickinson

Like Some Old Fashioned Miracle

poem 302

Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June As infinite Tradition As Cinderella’s Bays Or Little John of Lincoln Green Or Blue Beard’s Galleries Her Bees have a fictitious Hum Her Blossoms, like a Dream Elate us till we almost weep So plausible they seem Her Memories like Strains Review When Orchestra is dumb The Violin in Baize replaced And Ear and Heaven numb

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