THESE are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June —
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief;
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join;
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!
First print Nature XXVII, 27
Johnson 130 | Franklin 122
■→Poems, first print by Higginson and Todd, page 100;
Dash alone for thematic development, cf. ■→Notes for The Outlet;
semicolon for stanza end.
A D V E R T I S E M E N T
The world may never have seen her original handwriting, if her skill was taken for supernatural. Feel welcome to Poems by Emily Dickinson prepared for print by Teresa Pelka: thematic stanzas, notes on the Greek and Latin inspiration, the correlative with Webster 1828, and the Aristotelian motif, Things perpetual — these are not in time, but in eternity.