We Like March
Because I Could Not Stop for Death A Book The Bustle in a House Come Slowly, Eden! Death Sets a Thing Heart, We Will Forget Him! Hope is the Thing with Feathers I Felt a Funeral in My Brain I Went To Heaven My Life Closed Twice Before it Closed The Mystery of Pain A Narrow Fellow in the Grass The Only News I Know Success is Counted Sweetest Summer Shower There Is A Word This Is My Letter To The World A Thunderstorm We Like March When Roses Cease To Bloom, Dear
We like March, his shoes are purple, He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder's tongue his coming, And begets her spot. Stands the sun so close and mighty That our minds are hot . News is he of all the others; Bold it were to die With the blue-birds buccaneering On his British sky.