Happy Spring From Emily Dickinson

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:

A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.

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Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) was born in Amherst, Massachusetts. Around 1850 she started to write poetry and over the years experimented with a number of different styles and types of poem. She was very prolific, and wrote over 1800 poems; but was equally shy and solitary, and in her own lifetime only six of these were published. After her death her poems were brought out by her sister Lavinia, who edited three volumes between 1891 and 1896. Even then the task wasn't fully completed, and it wasn't until the 1950's that the job of bringing Dickinson's poetry to the world was essentially completed.

http://www.firstscience.com/SITE/poems/dickinson3.asp