E-Text

Emily Dickinson's Collected Poems

Part Three: Nature 58. The bee is not afraid of me

The bee is not afraid of me,

I know the butterfly;

The pretty people in the woods

Receive me cordially.


The brooks laugh louder when I come,

The breezes madder play.

Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?

Wherefore, O summer's day?

Cite this page