Emily Dickinson — A Bird came down the Walk 328

A Bird came down the Walk— He did not know I saw— He bit an Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw And then he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass— And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass— He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around— They looked like frightened Beads, I thought— He stirred his Velvet Head Like one in danger, Cautious I offered him a Crumb And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home— Than Oars divide the Ocean Too silver for a seam— Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, plashless as they swim