Further in Summer than the Birds

　　　　　by Emily Dickinson

　　　　Further in Summer than the Birds
　　　　　Pathetic from the Grass
　 　　　A minor Nation celebrates
　　 　　Its unobtrusive Mass.

　　　　　No Ordinance be seen
　　 　　So gradual the Grace
　　　　　A pensive Custom it becomes
　　　　　Enlarging Loneliness.

　　　　　Antiquest felt at Noon
　　　　　When August burning low
　　　 　Arise this spectral Canticle
　　　 　Repose to typify.

　 　Remit as yet no Grace
　　　　　No Furrow on the Glow
　　　　　Yet a Druidic Difference
　　　　　Enhances Nature now.