Author Emily Dickinson 757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause— In Their Eternal Faces The Sun—with just delight Looks long—and last—and golden— For fellowship—at night— Tags purple sun night rose 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