I Envy Seas, Whereon He Rides
Emily Dickinson
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills That gaze upon His journey— How easy All can see What is forbidden utterly As Heaven—unto me! I envy Nests of Sparrows— That dot His distant Eaves— The wealthy Fly, upon His Pane— The happy—happy Leaves— That just abroad His Window Have Summer’s leave to play— The Ear Rings of Pizarro Could not obtain for me— I envy Light—that wakes Him— And Bells—that boldly ring To tell Him it is Noon, abroad— Myself—be Noon to Him— Yet interdict—my Blossom— And abrogate—my Bee— Lest Noon in Everlasting Night— Drop Gabriel—and Me—
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