11’’ x 17’’ print

She Is Earth

Nature, The gentlest mother,

Impatient of no child,

The feeblest or the way wardest,

Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill

By traveler is heard,

Restraining rampant squirrel

Or too impetuous bird

How fair her conversation

A summer afternoon,

Her household Assembly;

And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles

In cites the timid prayer of the minutest cricket,

The most unworthy flower

When all the children sleep

She turns as long away

As will suffice to light her lamps,

Then bending from the sky.

With infinite affection

And infinite care

Her golden fingers on her lips,

Wills silence everywhere.

Emily Dickinson