On This Long Storm The Rainbow Rose
Emily Dickinson
194 On this long storm the Rainbow rose— On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephants— Horizons—straggled down— The Birds rose smiling, in their nests— The gales—indeed—were done— Alas, how heedless were the eyes— On whom the summer shone! The quiet nonchalance of death— No Daybreak—can bestir— The slow—Archangel’s syllables Must awaken her!
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