Page:Emily Dickinson Poems (1890).djvu/100

 XX.

TWO WORLDS.

T makes no difference abroad, The seasons fit the same, The mornings blossom into noons, And split their pods of flame.

Wild-flowers kindle in the woods, The brooks brag all the day; No blackbird bates his jargoning For passing Calvary.

Auto-da-fé and judgment Are nothing to the bee; His separation from his rose To him seems misery.