The Birds reported from the South
743
The Birds reported from the South
A News express to Me
A spicy Charge, My little Posts
But I am deaf Today
The Flowers appealed a timid Throng
I reinforced the Door
Go blossom for the Bees I said
And trouble Me no More
The Summer Grace, for Notice strove
Remote Her best Array
The Heart to stimulate the Eye
Refused too utterly
At length, a Mourner, like Myself,
She drew away austere
Her frosts to ponder then it was
I recollected Her
She suffered Me, for I had mourned
I offered Her no word
My Witness was the Crape I bore
Her Witness was Her Dead
Thenceforward We together dwelt
I never questioned Her
Our Contract
A Wiser Sympathy
Emily Dickinson
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