Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/51

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LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains, And, supercilious, peer In shanties by the sides of roads; And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between, Complaining all the while In horrid, hooting stanza; Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges; Then, punctual as a star, Stop — docile and omnipotent — At its own stable door.