I’ll tell you how the Sun rose –

A Ribbon at a time –

The Steeples swam in Amethyst –

The news, like Squirrels, ran –

The Hills untied their Bonnets – 
The Bobolinks – begun –

Then I said softly to myself –

“That must have been the Sun”!

But how he set – I know not –

There seemed a purple stile

That little Yellow boys and girls

Were climbing all the while –

Till when they reached the other side –

A Dominie in Gray –

Put gently up the evening Bars –

And led the flock away –

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)