“A BIRD CAME DOWN THE WALK”

 

A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

 

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the walk
To let a beetle pass.

 

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,—
They looked like frightened beads, I thought
He stirred his velvet head

 

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

 

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless as they swim.

 

 

           EMILY DICKINSON