All overgrown by cunning moss by Emily Dickinson

All overgrown by cunning moss,
All interspersed with weed,
The little cage of “Currer Bell”
In quiet “Haworth” laid.

This Bird – observing others
When frosts too sharp became
Retire to other latitudes –
Quietly did the same –

But differed in returning –
Since Yorkshire hills are green –
Yet not in all the nests I meet –
Can Nightingale be seen –

More from Emily Dickinson:

• This World is not Conclusion
• To fight aloud is very brave
• Wild nights – Wild nights!
• The Props assist the House
• You left me – Sire – two Legacies
• Publication – is the Auction