Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/130

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ROM cocoon forth a butterfly
 * As lady from her door

Emerged — a summer afternoon — Repairing everywhere,

Without design, that I could trace, Except to stray abroad On miscellaneous enterprise The clovers understood.

Her pretty parasol was seen Contracting in a field Where men made hay, then struggling hard With an opposing cloud,

Where parties, phantom as herself, To Nowhere seemed to go In purposeless circumference, As 't were a tropic show.