Nature

 by Emily Dickinson

Nature

"Nature" is what we see—

The Hill—the Afternoon—

Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee—

Nay—Nature is Heaven—

Nature is what we hear—

The Bobolink—the Sea—

Thunder—the Cricket—

Nay—Nature is Harmony—

Nature is what we know—

Yet have no art to say—

So impotent Our Wisdom is

To her Simplicity.

High From The Earth I Heard A Bird 

High from the earth I heard a bird;

He trod upon the trees

As he esteemed them trifles,

And then he spied a breeze,

And situated softly

Upon a pile of wind

Which in a perturbation

Nature had left behind.

A joyous-going fellow

I gathered from his talk,

Which both of benediction

And badinage partook,

Without apparent burden,

I learned, in leafy wood

He was the faithful father

Of a dependent brood;

And this untoward transport

His remedy for care,—

A contrast to our respites.

How different we are!

To the bright east she flies

To the bright east she flies,

Brothers of Paradise

Remit her home,

Without a change of wings,

Or Love's convenient things,

Enticed to come.

Fashioning what she is,

Fathoming what she was,

We deem we dream -

And that dissolves the days

Through which existence strays

Homeless at home.