(47) BLOOM upon the Mountain, stated, Blameless of a name. Efflorescence of a Sunset— Reproduced, the same. Seed, had I, my purple sowing Should endow the Day, Not a tropic of the twilight Show itself away. Who for tilling, to the Mountain Come, and disappear— Whose be Her renown, or fading, Witness, is not here. While I state—the solemn petals Far as North and East Far as South and West expanding, Culminate in rest. And the Mountain to the Evening Fit His countenance, Indicating by no muscle The Experience.
-Emily Dickinson