As Imperceptibly As Grief By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

   As imperceptibly as grief
    The summer lapsed away, —
    Too imperceptible, at last,
    To seem like perfidy.

    A quietness distilled,
    As twilight long begun,
    Or Nature, spending with herself
    Sequestered afternoon.

    The dusk drew earlier in,
    The morning foreign shone, —
    A courteous, yet harrowing grace,
    As guest who would be gone.

    And thus, without a wing,
    Or service of a keel,
    Our summer made her light escape
    Into the beautiful.