Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/A fuzzy fellow without feet
A FUZZY fellow without feet
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet is his countenance
And his complexion dun.
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet is his countenance
And his complexion dun.
Sometimes he dwelleth in the grass,
Sometimes upon a bough
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the passer-by.
Sometimes upon a bough
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the passer-by.
All this in summer—
But when winds alarm the forest folk,
He taketh damask residence
And struts in sewing silk.
But when winds alarm the forest folk,
He taketh damask residence
And struts in sewing silk.
Then, finer than a lady,
Emerges in the spring,
A feather on each shoulder—
You'd scarce accredit him.
Emerges in the spring,
A feather on each shoulder—
You'd scarce accredit him.
By men yelept a caterpillar—
By me—but who am I
To tell the pretty secret
Of the Butterfly!
By me—but who am I
To tell the pretty secret
Of the Butterfly!