poems sent from dickinson to austin dickinson

The Grass so little has to do -
A Sphere of simple Green -
With only Butterflies to brood
And Bees to entertain -

And stir all day to pretty Tunes
The Breezes fetch along -
And hold the Sunshine in it's lap
And bow to everything -

And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls -
And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing -

And even when it dies - to pass
In Odors so divine -
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep -
Or Spikenards, perishing -

And then, in Sovreign Barns to dwell -
And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay -

thomas johnson's note on poem 333 | index to dickinson/austin dickinson poems

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Commentary copyright 1998 by Martha Nell Smith, all rights reserved
Maintained by Lara Vetter <lvetter@uncc.edu>
Last updated on February 25, 2008