A bithday present

My brother, Gabriel, brought me a rather lovely old copy of Emily Dickinson's poems for my 24th birthday last week. One of my big senior English projects in college for American Lit I was to do extensive research on her and her poetry, write a paper, and then take over a session of discussion/class time (all of this was bestowed upon me because the last couple of weeks of the class were going to be on Hawthorne, and Dr. Harris decided I already knew enough about him). Anyways, I love her and I loved doing the project.

Here's a poem that I love every time I read it. It's how I feel in the Fall (even though it says 'Summer').


XX

I TASTE a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I, 5
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove’s door, 10
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler 15
Leaning against the sun!