I like to see it lap the miles

I like to see it lap the Miles –

And lick the Valleys up –

And stop to feed itself at Tanks –

And then – prodigious step

Around a Pile of Mountains –

And supercilious peer

In Shanties – by the sides of Roads –

And then a Quarry pare

To fit its sides

And crawl between

Complaining all the while

In horrid – hooting stanza –

Then chase itself down Hill –

And neigh like Boanerges –

Then – prompter than a Star

Stop – docile and omnipotent

At it’s own stable door –

– Emily Dickinson