A Something in a Summer’s Day

Here’s one of my favorite poems written by Emily Dickinson that represents the waning days of summer.  I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.

Everyone have a good weekend!

A SOMETHING in a summer’s day,

As slow her flambeaux burn away,

Which solumnizes me.

A something in a summer’s noon,--

An azure depth, a wordless tune,

Transcending ecstasy,

And still within a summer’s night

A something so transporting bright,

I clap my hands to see;

Then veil my too inspecting face,

Lest such a subtle, shimmering grace

Flutter too far forme.

The wizard-fingers never rest,

The purple brook within the breast

Still chafes its narrow bed;

Still rears the East her amber flag,

Guides still the sun along the crag

His caravan of red,

Like flowers that heard the tale of dews,

But never deemed the dripping prize

Awaited their low brows;

Or bees, that thought the summer’s name

Some rumor of delirium

No summer could for them;

Or Artic creature, dimly stirred

By tropic hint, --some travelled bird

Imported to the wood;

Or wind’s bright signal to the ear,

Making that homely and severe,

Contented, known, before

The heaven unexpected came,

To lives that thought their worshipping

A too presumptuous psalm.