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Playing Violin Karl in Nature:

Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

Part Two: Nature

LXXV

OF all the sounds despatched abroad,
There ’s not a charge to me
Like that old measure in the boughs,
That phraseless melody
The wind does, working like a hand 5
Whose fingers comb the sky,
Then quiver down, with tufts of tune
Permitted gods and me.
When winds go round and round in bands,
And thrum upon the door, 10
And birds take places overhead,
To bear them orchestra,
I crave him grace, of summer boughs,
If such an outcast be,
He never heard that fleshless chant 15
Rise solemn in the tree,
As if some caravan of sound
On deserts, in the sky,
Had broken rank,
Then knit, and passed 20
In seamless company., Old Mission Peninsula, Normal