II. LOVE - XI. THE LOVERS

LOVE: XI. THE LOVERS

The rose did caper on her cheek,
Her bodice rose and fell,
Her pretty speech, like drunken men,
Did stagger pitiful.

Her fingers fumbled at her work, --
Her needle would not go;
What ailed so smart a little maid
It puzzled me to know,

Till opposite I spied a cheek
That bore another rose;
Just opposite, another speech
That like the drunkard goes;

A vest that, like the bodice, danced
To the immortal tune, --
Till those two troubled little clocks
Ticked softly into one.

Content of LOVE: XI. THE LOVERS [Emily Dickinson's poems collection: Second Series [Series 2]]

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Table of content of Second Series [Series 2]



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