The Bird did prance—the Bee did play—
Emily Dickinson
1107 The Bird did prance—the Bee did play— The Sun ran miles away So blind with joy he could not choose Between his Holiday The morn was up—the meadows out The Fences all but ran, Republic of Delight, I thought Where each is Citizen— From Heavy laden Lands to thee Were seas to cross to come A Caspian were crowded— Too near thou art for Fame—
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