Emily Dickinson
I like to see it lap the Miles
I like to see it lap the Miles–
And lick the Valleys up–
And stop to feed itself at Tanks–
And then–prodigious step
Around a Pile of Mountains–
And supercilious peer
In Shanties–by the sides of Roads–
And then a Quarry pare
To fit its Ribs and crawl between
Complaining all the while
In horrid–hooting stanza–
Then chase itself down Hill–
And neigh like Boanerges–
Then–punctual as a Star
Stop–docile and omnipotent
At its own stable door–
Emily Dickinson