Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
Until we meet a snake;
'Tis then we sigh for houses,
And our departure take

At that enthralling gallop
That only childhood knows.
A snake is summer's treason,
And guile is where it goes.

Added: Jan 9 2004 | Viewed: 2638 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 1740. Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
Poem of the Day: Mar 7 2003
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