Pigmy Seraphs-gone Astray
Emily Dickinson
138 Pigmy seraphs—gone astray— Velvet people from Vevay— Balles from some lost summer day— Bees exclusive Coterie— Paris could not lay the fold Belted down with Emerald— Venice could not show a check Of a tint so lustrous meek— Never such an Ambuscade As of briar and leaf displayed For my little damask maid— I had rather wear her grace Than an Earl’s distinguished face— I had rather dwell like her Than be “Duke of Exeter”— Royalty enough for me To subdue the Bumblebee.
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