THE grass so little has to do —
A sphere of simple green,
With only butterflies to brood,
And bees to entertain;
And stir all day to pretty tunes
The breezes fetch along,
And hold the sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything;
And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
And make itself so fine, —
A duchess were too common
For such a noticing.
And even when it dies, to pass
In odors so divine,
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
Or amulets of pine;
And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away, —
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay!
First print Nature IX, 9
Johnson 333 | Franklin 379
■→Poems, first print by Higginson and Todd, page 78;
First line dash without comma to develop the theme, semicolon for stanza end; premise and consequent comma and dash in stanzas 3 and 5.
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.