Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

The Gentian Weaves Her Fringes - Poem by Emily Dickinson

18

The Gentian weaves her fringes—
The Maple's loom is red—
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.

A brief, but patient illness—
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are—
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there—
An aged Bee addressed us—
And then we knelt in prayer—
We trust that she was willing—
We ask that we may be.
Summer—Sister—Seraph!
Let us go with thee!

In the name of the Bee—
And of the Butterfly—
And of the Breeze—Amen!


Comments about The Gentian Weaves Her Fringes by Emily Dickinson

  • Rookie - 0 Points Mary Cross (4/4/2013 3:21:00 PM)

    Is this about the end of Summer or something more? (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: butterfly, sister, trust, summer, red, angel



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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