A Light Exists in Spring

by
 Emily Dickinson

A Light exists in Spring
 Not present on the Year
 At any other period —
 When March is scarcely here
 
 A Color stands abroad
 On Solitary Fields
 That Science cannot overtake
 But Human Nature feels.
 
 It waits upon the Lawn,
 It shows the furthest Tree
 Upon the furthest Slope you know
 It almost speaks to you.
 
 Then as Horizons step
 Or Noons report away
 Without the Formula of sound
 It passes and we stay —
 
 A quality of loss
 Affecting our Content
 As Trade had suddenly encroached
 Upon a Sacrament.