Emily Dickinson

The Sun just Touched The Morning

poem 232

The Sun just touched the Morning The Morning Happy thing Supposed that He had come to dwell And Life would all be Spring! She felt herself supremer A Raised Ethereal Thing! Henceforth for Her What Holiday! Meanwhile Her wheeling King Trailed slow along the Orchards His haughty spangled Hems Leaving a new necessity! The want of Diadems! The Morning fluttered staggered Felt feebly for Her Crown Her unanointed forehead Henceforth Her only One!

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