Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Three: Love
IX
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| HAVE you got a brook in your little heart, | |
| Where bashful flowers blow, | |
| And blushing birds go down to drink, | |
| And shadows tremble so? | |
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| And nobody, knows, so still it flows, | 5 |
| That any brook is there; | |
| And yet your little draught of life | |
| Is daily drunken there. | |
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| Then look out for the little brook in March, | |
| When the rivers overflow, | 10 |
| And the snows come hurrying from the hills, | |
| And the bridges often go. | |
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| And later, in August it may be, | |
| When the meadows parching lie, | |
| Beware, lest this little brook of life | 15 |
| Some burning noon go dry! | |
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