Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete · Emily Dickinson
Chapter 2
Chapter 65 of 146 · 1 min read
OUT OF THE MORNING.
Will there really be a morning? Is there such a thing as day? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
Has it feet like water-lilies? Has it feathers like a bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard?
Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor! Oh, some wise man from the skies! Please to tell a little pilgrim Where the place called morning lies!
III.
At half-past three a single bird Unto a silent sky Propounded but a single term Of cautious melody.
At half-past four, experiment Had subjugated test, And lo! her silver principle Supplanted all the rest.
At half-past seven, element Nor implement was seen, And place was where the presence was, Circumference between.
