On The World You Colored

Emily Dickinson

1171

On the World you colored
Morning painted rose—
Idle his Vermillion
Aimlessly crept the Glows
Over Realms of Orchards
I the Day before
Conquered with the Robin—
Misery, how fair
Till your wrinkled Finger
Shored the sun away
Midnight’s awful Pattern
In the Goods of Day—

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