THE ROSE DID CAPER ON HER CHEEK
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
- HE rose did caper on her cheek,
- Her bodice rose and fell,
- Her pretty speech, like drunken men,
- Did stagger pitiful.
-
- Her fingers fumbled at her work,--
- Her needle would not go;
- What ailed so smart a little maid
- It puzzled me to know,
-
- Till opposite I spied a cheek
- That bore another rose;
- Just opposite, another speech
- That like the drunkard goes;
-
- A vest that, like the bodice, danced
- To the immortal tune,--
- Till those two troubled little clocks
- Ticked softly into one.
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POEMS BY EMILY DICKINSON |
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