There is a morn by men unseen --
Whose maids upon remoter green
Keep their Seraphic May --
And all day long, with dance and game,
And gambol I may never name --
Employ their holiday.

Here to light measure, move the feet
Which walk no more the village street --
Nor by the wood are found --
Here are the birds that sought the sun
When last year's distaff idle hung
And summer's brows were bound.

Ne'er saw I such a wondrous scene --
Ne'er such a ring on such a green --
Nor so serene array --
As if the stars some summer night
Should swing their cups of Chrysolite --
And revel till the day --

Like thee to dance -- like thee to sing --
People upon the mystic green --
I ask, each new May Morn.
I wait thy far, fantastic bells --
Unto the different dawn!

Added: on March 13th, 2005 at 6:43 PM | Viewed: 5793 times | Comments (2)

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 24. There is a morn by men unseen
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
Poem of the Day: Jul 5 2007

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, There is a morn by men unseen, has received 2 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Emily Dickinson with others on the American Poems poetry forum!