By the Sea by Emily Dickinson — Read

I started early, took my dog, / And visited the sea; / The mermaids in the basement / Came out to look at me,

And frigates in the upper floor / Extended hempen hands, / Presuming me to be a mouse / Aground, upon the sands.

But no man moved me till the tide / Went past my simple shoe, / And past my apron and my belt, / And past my bodice too,

And made as he would eat me up / As wholly as a dew / Upon a dandelion's sleeve -- / And then I started too.

And he -- he followed close behind; / I felt his silver heel / Upon my ankle, -- then my shoes / Would overflow with pearl.

Until we met the solid town, / No man he seemed to know; / And bowing with a mighty look / At me, the sea withdrew.