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23. | XXIII.
THE BALLOON. |
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Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||
128
XXIII.
THE BALLOON.
You've seen balloons set, have n't you?
So stately they ascend
It is as swans discarded you
For duties diamond.
So stately they ascend
It is as swans discarded you
For duties diamond.
Their liquid feet go softly out
Upon a sea of blond;
They spurn the air as 'twere too mean
For creatures so renowned.
Upon a sea of blond;
They spurn the air as 'twere too mean
For creatures so renowned.
Their ribbons just beyond the eye,
They struggle some for breath,
And yet the crowd applauds below;
They would not encore death.
They struggle some for breath,
And yet the crowd applauds below;
They would not encore death.
The gilded creature strains and spins,
Trips frantic in a tree,
Tears open her imperial veins
And tumbles in the sea.
Trips frantic in a tree,
Tears open her imperial veins
And tumbles in the sea.
129
The crowd retire with an oath
The dust in streets goes down,
And clerks in counting-rooms observe,
‘'T was only a balloon.’
The dust in streets goes down,
And clerks in counting-rooms observe,
‘'T was only a balloon.’
Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||