Author Emily Dickinson 89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be— Grief—Hills—Eternity&mda sh; Nor this behooveth me. There are that resting, rise. Can I expound the skies? How still the Riddle lies! Tags elegy grief rose sky 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