The day came slow, till five o’clock,
Then sprang before the hills
Like hindered rubies, or the light
A sudden musket spills.
The purple could not keep the east,
The sunrise shook from fold,
Like breadths of topaz, packed a night,
The lady just unrolled.
The happy winds their timbrels took;
The birds, in docile rows,
Arranged themselves around their prince
(The wind is prince of those).
The orchard sparkled like a Jew, –
How mighty ‘t was, to stay
A guest in this stupendous place,
The parlor of the day!
The official Daily Dickinson 2008 Calendar is available, featuring poems and pictures that have been featured on this site.


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