Because My Faltering Feet  The day came slow, till five o'clock
Then sprang before the hills Like hindered rubies, or the light
A sudden musket spills  The purple could not keep the east, The
sunrise shook from fold, Like breadths of topaz, packed a night,
The lady just unrolled.  The happy winds their timbrels took;
The birds, in docile rows, Arranged themselves around their
prince (The wind is prince of those).  The orchard sparkled like
a Jew, -- How mighty 't was, to stay A guest in this stupendous
place, The parlor of the day!  Emily Dickinson  Any Comments or
Suggestions, please email me   The Poets Garret  Tir Nan Og
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