606 <br /> <br />The Trees like Tassels—hit—and swung— <br />There seemed to rise a Tune <br />From Miniature Creatures <br />Accompanying the Sun— <br /> <br />Far Psalteries of Summer— <br />Enamoring the Ear <br />They never yet did satisfy— <br />Remotest—when most fair <br /> <br />The Sun shone whole at intervals— <br />Then Half—then utter hid— <br />As if Himself were optional <br />And had Estates of Cloud <br /> <br />Sufficient to enfold Him <br />Eternally from view— <br />Except it were a whim of His <br />To let the Orchards grow— <br /> <br />A Bird sat careless on the fence— <br />One gossipped in the Lane <br />On silver matters charmed a Snake <br />Just winding round a Stone— <br /> <br />Bright Flowers slit a Calyx <br />And soared upon a Stem <br />Like Hindered Flags—Sweet hoisted— <br />With Spices—in the Hem— <br /> <br />'Twas more—I cannot mention— <br />How mean—to those that see— <br />Vandyke's Delineation <br />Of Nature's—Summer Day!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trees-like-tassels-hit-and-swung/
