(A poem by Emily Dickinson)
I taste a liquor never brewed–
From Tankards scooped in Pearl–
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air–am I–
And Debauchee of Dew–
Reeling–thro endless summer days–
From inns of Molten Blue–
When the “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove’s door–
When Butterflies–renounce their drams–
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats–
And Saints–to windows run–
To see the little Tippler–
Leaning against the–Sun!
Emily Dickinson was an American poet who is widely considered one of the most original and influential poets of the 19th century. That despite the fact that less than a dozen of her nearly eighteen hundred poems were published during her lifetime.