Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/136

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I DREAMED that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I 'm accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though.

I thought if I could only live Till that first shout got by, Not all pianos in the woods Had power to mangle me.

I dared not meet the daffodils, For fear their yellow gown Would pierce me with a fashion So foreign to my own.

I wished the grass would hurry, So when 't was time to see, He 'd be too tall, the tallest one Could stretch to look at me.