Will There Really Be A Morning

poem by Emily Dickinson

Will there really be a morning
Is there such a thing as day
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they
Has it feet like water lilies
Has it feathers like a bird
Does it come from famous countries
Of which I have never, never, never heard?
Oh, some scholar, oh, some sailor
Oh, some wise man from the skies
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies

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