Within my Garden, rides a Bird

Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel —
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As ‘twere a travelling Mill —

He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose —
Partakes without alighting
And praises as he goes,

Till every spice is tasted —
And then his Fairy Gig
Reels in remoter atmospheres —
And I rejoin my Dog,

And He and I, perplex us
If positive, 'twere we —
Or bore the Garden in the Brain
This Curiosity —

But He, the best Logician,
Refers my clumsy eye —
To just vibrating Blossoms!
An Exquisite Reply!

Emily Dickinson

Humming Bird

In my Garden, a Bird rides
Upon a single Wheel —
Whose spokes make a dizzy Music
As it were a rotating Mill —

He never stops, but hovers
Above the Ripest Rose —
Partakes without landing
And sings as he goes,

Till every spice is tasted —
And then his Fairy carriage
Reels in remoter wind current —
And I come back to my Dog,

And He and I, are puzzled
If real, 'twere we —
Or the Garden bore This Curiosity
In the Brain—

But He, the best Logician,
Direct my clumsy eye —
To just vibrating Blossoms!
An Exact Answer!