Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass --
'Tis many a tiny Mill
Turns unperceived beneath our feet
And Artisan lies still --

We spy the Forests and the Hills
The Tents to Nature's Show
Mistake the Outside for the in
And mention what we saw.

Could Commentators on the Sign
Of Nature's Caravan
Obtain "Admission" as a Child
Some Wednesday Afternoon.

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 1097. Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass --
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
Poem of the Day: May 2 2005

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass --, has received one comment so far. Click here to read it, and perhaps post a comment of your own.