by Emily Dickinson
916
His Feet are shod with Gauze-
His Helmet, is of Gold,
His Breast, a Single Onyx
With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
His Labor is a Chant-
His Idleness-a Tune-
Oh, for a Bee's experience
Of Clovers, and of Noon!
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His Feet are shod with Gauze
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