Blazing in gold and quenching in purple,
Leaping like leopards to the sky,
Then at the feet of the old horizon
Laying her spotted face, to die;
Stooping as low as the otter's window,
Touching the roof and tinting the barn,
Kissing her bonnet to the meadow, --
And the juggler of day is gone!
The Juggler Of Day
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
(3)
Poem topics: purple, sky, face, roof, horizon, gold, window, Valentine's Day, meadow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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