A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer’s noon –
A depth – an Azure – a perfume –
Transcending ecstasy.
And still within a summer’s night
A something to transporting bright
I clap my hands to see –
Then veil my too inspecting face
Lest such a subtle – shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me –
The wizard fingers never rest –
The purple brook within the breast
still chafes its narrow bed –
Still rears the East her amber Flag –
Guides still the Sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red –
So looking on – the night – the morn
Conclude the wonder gay –
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!
Emily Dickinson #122 (TJ)
Description
This poem is about getting lost in the beauty of a summer day, so much so,
you even have to “veil” your face. The colors made by the sun and the
brightness of the stars, meet together in a drop of dew on another
summer’s day, because God or “The wizard fingers never rest” will always
have that magnificent creation for you to jump fully into.
