THE SUN'S WOOING

The sun just touched the morning ;
     The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.

She felt herself supremer, ~
A raised, ethereal thing ;
Henceforth for her what holiday !
Meanwhile, her wheeling king

Trailed slow along the orchards
His haughty, spangled hems,
Leaving a new necessity, ~
The want of diadems !

The morning fluttered, staggered,
Felt feebly for her crown, ~
Her unanointed forehead
Henceforth her only one.

~ Emily Dickinson, Collected Poems of ED, Chatham River Press, 1993.

Note:  The Neat L'l Bookshop opens 10:30 a.m. Wednesday to Saturday.  5:00 p.m. closing except for Saturdays when we close at 3:00.  "Stop in, stay a while, read a book.  Coffee pot's always on..."