Emily Dickinson — Before you thought of spring

Before you thought of spring Except as a surmise You see, God bless his suddenness A fellow in the skies Of independent hues A little weather-worn Inspiriting habiliments Of indigo and brown With specimens of song As if for you to choose Discretion in the interval With gay delays he goes To some superior tree Without a single leaf And shouts for joy to nobody But his seraphic self!