In Shadow by Emily Dickinson — Read

I dreaded that first robin so, / But he is mastered now, / And I 'm accustomed to him grown, -- / He hurts a little, though.

I thought if I could only live / Till that first shout got by, / Not all pianos in the woods / Had power to mangle me.

I dared not meet the daffodils, / For fear their yellow gown / Would pierce me with a fashion / So foreign to my own.

I wished the grass would hurry, / So when 't was time to see, / He 'd be too tall, the tallest one / Could stretch to look at me.

I could not bear the bees should come, / I wished they 'd stay away / In those dim countries where they go: / What word had they for me?

They 're here, though; not a creature failed, / No blossom stayed away / In gentle deference to me, / The Queen of Calvary.

Each one salutes me as he goes, / And I my childish plumes / Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment / Of their unthinking drums.