Author Emily Dickinson 916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid. His Labor is a Chant— His Idleness—a Tune— Oh, for a Bee's experience Of Clovers, and of Noon! 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