Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Part Two: NatureCV
Y
So stately they ascend
It is as swans discarded you
For duties diamond.
Upon a sea of blond;
They spurn the air as’t were to mean
For creatures so renowned.
They struggle some for breath,
And yet the crowd applauds below;
They would not encore death.
Trips frantic in a tree,
Tears open her imperial veins
And tumbles in the sea.
The dust in streets goes down,
And clerks in counting-rooms observe,
“’T was only a balloon.”