Emily Dickinson - The Sun kept stooping -- stooping -- low!
The Sun kept stooping -- stooping -- low! The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose! Deeper and deeper grew the stain Upon the window pane -- Thicker and thicker stood the feet Until the Tyrian Was crowded dense with Armies -- So gay, so Brigadier -- That I felt martial stirrings Who once the Cockade wore -- Charged from my chimney corner -- But Nobody was there! |