Further in Summer than the Birds
By Emily Dickinson

Further in Summer than the Birds

Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass.

No Ordinance be seen So gradual the Grace

A pensive Custom it becomes Enlarging Loneliness.

Antiquest felt at Noon When August burning low Arise this spectral Canticle Repose to typify

Remit as yet no Grace No Furrow on the Glow Yet a Druidic Difference Enhances Nature now