1I dreaded that first Robin, so,
2But He is mastered, now,
3I'm some accustomed to Him grown,
4He hurts a little, though—
5I thought if I could only live
6Till that first Shout got by—
7Not all Pianos in the Woods
8Had power to mangle me—
9I dared not meet the Daffodils—
10For fear their Yellow Gown
11Would pierce me with a fashion
12So foreign to my own—
13I wished the Grass would hurry—
14So—when 'twas time to see—
15He'd be too tall, the tallest one
16Could stretch to look at me—
17I could not bear the Bees should come,
18I wished they'd stay away
19In those dim countries where they go,
20What word had they, for me?
21They're here, though; not a creature failed—
22No Blossom stayed away
23In gentle deference to me—
24The Queen of Calvary—
25Each one salutes me, as he goes,
26And I, my childish Plumes,
27Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
28Of their unthinking Drums—
1I dreaded that first Robin, so,
2But He is mastered, now,
3I'm some accustomed to Him grown,
4He hurts a little, though—
5I thought if I could only live
6Till that first Shout got by—
7Not all Pianos in the Woods
8Had power to mangle me—
9I dared not meet the Daffodils—
10For fear their Yellow Gown
11Would pierce me with a fashion
12So foreign to my own—
13I wished the Grass would hurry—
14So—when 'twas time to see—
15He'd be too tall, the tallest one
16Could stretch to look at me—
17I could not bear the Bees should come,
18I wished they'd stay away
19In those dim countries where they go,
20What word had they, for me?
21They're here, though; not a creature failed—
22No Blossom stayed away
23In gentle deference to me—
24The Queen of Calvary—
25Each one salutes me, as he goes,
26And I, my childish Plumes,
27Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
28Of their unthinking Drums—
I dreaded that first Robin, so,
But He is mastered, now,
I'm some 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 'twas time to see—
He'd be too tall, the tallest one
Could stretch to look at me—
I could not bear the Bees should come,
I wished they'd stay away
In those dim countries where they go,
What word had they, for me?
They're here, though; not a creature failed—
No Blossom stayed away
In gentle deference to me—
The Queen of Calvary—
Each one salutes me, as he goes,
And I, my childish Plumes,
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking Drums—
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
The Poem in Dickinson's Hand — Take a look at a manuscript of the poem.
Dickinson and Spring — Read more about the poet's relationship with spring.
The Dickinson Museum — Find a trove of information about Dickinson's life and work at the Dickinson Museum.
Dickinson's Legacy — Learn how Dickinson's secret poetry was discovered and preserved.