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 Wall
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, splashless as they swim.

Emily Dickinson, 10 december, 1830 – 15 mei, 1886

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