Poemsby Emily Dickinson

The Balloon

 You've seen balloons set, haven't you?   So stately they ascend It is as swans discarded you   For duties diamond. 
 Their liquid feet go softly out   Upon a sea of blond; They spurn the air as 't were too mean   For creatures so renowned. 
 Their ribbons just beyond the eye,   They struggle some for breath, And yet the crowd applauds below;   They would not encore death. 
 The gilded creature strains and spins,   Trips frantic in a tree, Tears open her imperial veins   And tumbles in the sea. 
 The crowd retire with an oath   The dust in streets goes down, And clerks in counting-rooms observe,   ''T was only a balloon.'