Emily Dickinson - Musicians wrestle everywhere lyrics

Musicians wrestle everywhere All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife And—walking—long before the morn Such transport breaks upon the town I think it that "New Life"! If is not Bird—it has no nest Nor "Band"—in bra** and scarlet—drest Nor Tamborin—nor Man It is not Hymn from pulpit read The "Morning Stars" the Treble led On Time's first Afternoon! Some—say—it is "the Spheres"—at play! Some say that bright Majority Of vanished Dames—and Men! Some—think it service in the place Where we—with late—celestial face Please God—shall Ascertain!