Emily Dickinson - The Gra** lyrics

The Gra** so little has to do A Sphere of simple Green With only bu*terflies to brood And Bees to entertain And stir all day to pretty Tunes The Breezes fetch along And hold the Sunshine in its lap And bow to everything And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls And make itself so fine A Duchess were too common For such a noticing And even when it dies – to pa** In Odors so divine Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep Or Spikenards, perishing And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell And dream the Days away The Gra** so little has to do I wish I were a Hay