The Wind

Emily Dickinson

1830 to 1886

Poem Image

It's like the light, —
  A fashionless delight
It's like the bee, —
  A dateless melody.

It's like the woods,
  Private like breeze,
Phraseless, yet it stirs
  The proudest trees.

It's like the morning, —
  Best when it's done, —
The everlasting clocks
  Chime noon.