Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling—flying— Do the Buds to them belong? Angels, when the sun is hottest May be seen the sands among, Stooping—plucking—sighing—flying— Parched the flowers they bear along.
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 12 Feb 2012 6:35 AM | Viewed: 6699 times
A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.
For more information...