Emily Dickinson - I taste a liquor never brewed

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I taste a liquor never brewed –

 From Tankards scooped in Pearl – 

 Not all the Frankfort Berries 

Yield such an Alcohol! 

 Inebriate of air – 

am I – And Debauchee of Dew – 

 Reeling – thro' endless summer days – 

 From inns of molten Blue – 

 When "Landlords" turn the drunken

 Bee Out of the Foxglove's door – 

 When Butterflies 

renounce their "drams" 

 I shall but drink the more! 

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats 

And Saints –

to windows run  

 To see the little Tippler

 Leaning against the – Sun!