It rises -- passes -- on our South
Inscribes a simple Noon --
Cajoles a Moment with the Spires
And infinite is gone --
It rises -- passes -- on our South
written byEmily Dickinson
© Emily Dickinson
It rises -- passes -- on our South
Inscribes a simple Noon --
Cajoles a Moment with the Spires
And infinite is gone --
© Emily Dickinson