To intercept his yellow plan
The sun does not allow
Caprices of the atmosphere ;
And even when the snow
Heaves balls of specks like vicious boy
Directly in his eye,
Does not so much as turn his head —
Busy with majesty !
’Tis his to stimulate the earth,
And magnetize the sea,
And bind astronomy in place —
Yet any passer-by
Would deem Ourselves the busier,
As the minutest bee
That rides supports a thunder,
A bomb to justify !
From The Further Poems of Emily Dickinson (Little, Brown, and Company, 1929), edited by Martha Dickinson Bianchi and Alfred Leete Hampson. This poem is in the public domain.