It sifts from Leaden 
Sieves -
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster 
Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road -

It makes an Even 
Face
Of Mountain, and of 
Plain -
Unbroken Forehead 
from the East
Unto the East again -

It reaches to the Fence -
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces -
It deals Celestial Vail

To Stump, and Stack - 
and Stem -
A Summer's Empty Room -
Acres of Joints, where 
Harvests were,
Recordless, but for them -

It Ruffles Wrists 
of Posts
As Ankles of a 
Queen -

Then stills it's Artisans -
like Ghosts -
Denying they have been -
		Emily -