65 <br /> <br />I can't tell you—but you feel it— <br />Nor can you tell me— <br />Saints, with ravished slate and pencil <br />Solve our April Day! <br /> <br />Sweeter than a vanished frolic <br />From a vanished green! <br />Swifter than the hoofs of Horsemen <br />Round a Ledge of dream! <br /> <br />Modest, let us walk among it <br />With our faces veiled— <br />As they say polite Archangels <br />Do in meeting God! <br /> <br />Not for me—to prate about it! <br />Not for you—to say <br />To some fashionable Lady <br />"Charming April Day"! <br /> <br />Rather—Heaven's "Peter Parley"! <br />By which Children slow <br />To sublimer Recitation <br />Are prepared to go!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-can-t-tell-you-but-you-feel-it/
