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328
A bird came down the Walk-
He did not know I saw-
He bit an Angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass-
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a Beetle pass-
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around-
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought-
He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger; Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home
Than Oars divide the Ocean
Too silver for a seam-
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim.
Emily Dickinson 1830-1886
Emily Dickinson was an American poet from Amherst, Mass. Very few of her poems were published in her lifetime, the ones that were had been altered by publishers due to her lack of conformity to the so called form of the day. She was a recluse and as she grew older was known to stay in one room most of the time. Upon her death her sister discovered a prolific collection of magnificent work, her name will almost always be among the first to the fore when speaking of great poets, American or otherwise. What do you think of the above verses? All I can say is: she was not just staring at the walls in her solitude, she wrote beautifully. Please re-visit this piece over time, I am sure you will find as I have, it gets better every time you read it.
Very few of her works have titles as is the case with this poem #328. She also used unconventional punctuation and capitalization. Do not let the aforementioned facts mislead you,
Emily Dickinson was a true "master".
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