Nothing New

The great writers, one piece at a time.

Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 208 of 446 · Second Series: Nature

Old-Fashioned

— ✻ —

Arcturus is his other name, -- I'd rather call him star! It's so unkind of science To go and interfere!

I pull a flower from the woods, -- A monster with a glass Computes the stamens in a breath, And has her in a class.

Whereas I took the butterfly Aforetime in my hat, He sits erect in cabinets, The clover-bells forgot.

What once was heaven, is zenith now. Where I proposed to go When time's brief masquerade was done, Is mapped, and charted too!

What if the poles should frisk about And stand upon their heads! I hope I 'm ready for the worst, Whatever prank betides!

Perhaps the kingdom of Heaven 's changed! I hope the children there Won't be new-fashioned when I come, And laugh at me, and stare!

I hope the father in the skies Will lift his little girl, -- Old-fashioned, naughty, everything, -- Over the stile of pearl!

Receive Emily Dickinson one poem at a time, every morning.
Subscribe →