The Mountain Stood in Haze
The Mountains stood in Haze—
The Valleys stopped below
And went or waited as they liked
The River and the Sky.
At leisure was the Sun—
His interests of Fire
A little from remark withdrawn—
The Twilight spoke the Spire,
So soft upon the Scene
The Act of evening fell
We felt how neighborly a Thing
Was the Invisible.
The Valleys stopped below
And went or waited as they liked
The River and the Sky.
At leisure was the Sun—
His interests of Fire
A little from remark withdrawn—
The Twilight spoke the Spire,
So soft upon the Scene
The Act of evening fell
We felt how neighborly a Thing
Was the Invisible.
By Emily Dickinson
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