How Far The Village Lies
The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go –
The Crocus – till she rises
The Vassal of the snow –
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practice bore
Till bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.
Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted from the Sea –
Pinions – the Seraph’s wagon
Pedestrian once – as we –
Night is the morning’s Canvas
Larceny – legacy –
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.
My figures fail to tell me
How far the Village lies –
Whose peasants are the Angels –
Whose Cantons dot the skies –
My classics veil their faces –
My faith that Dark adores –
Which from its solemn abbeys
Such resurrection pours.
The Bard on the Hill 
Love Emily, she sat in awe and wonder, and brings us to her with her words ..
And what a way with words! She brought the right word into her poems in every case, words that might not even occur to the rest of us.
I, too, love Emily and this is a fit with what I wrote recently.