Author Emily Dickinson The bee is not afraid of me,I know the butterfly;The pretty people in the woodsReceive me cordially.The brooks laugh louder when I come,The breezes madder play.Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?Wherefore, O summer's day? Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments