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It's like the light, —

by Emily Dickinson, 1896

It's like the light, —
  A fashionless delight
It's like the bee, —
  A dateless melody.

It's like the woods,
  Private like breeze,
Phraseless, yet it stirs
  The proudest trees.

It's like the morning, —
  Best when it's done, —
The everlasting clocks
  Chime noon.

Published in Poems by Emily Dickinson: Third Series

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.