Emily Dickinson (183086). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Two: Nature
XXXVII
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| THE WIND begun to rock the grass | |
| With threatening tunes and low, | |
| He flung a menace at the earth, | |
| A menace at the sky. | |
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| The leaves unhooked themselves from trees | 5 |
| And started all abroad; | |
| The dust did scoop itself like hands | |
| And throw away the road. | |
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| The wagons quickened on the streets, | |
| The thunder hurried slow; | 10 |
| The lightning showed a yellow beak, | |
| And then a livid claw. | |
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| The birds put up the bars to nests, | |
| The cattle fled to barns; | |
| There came one drop of giant rain, | 15 |
| And then, as if the hands | |
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| That held the dams had parted hold, | |
| The waters wrecked the sky, | |
| But overlooked my fathers house, | |
| Just quartering a tree. | 20 |
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