Out of the Morning by Emily Dickinson

       Will there really be a morning?
    Is there such a thing as day?
    Could I see it from the mountains
    If I were as tall as they?

    Has it feet like water-lilies?
    Has it feathers like a bird?
    Is it brought from famous countries
    Of which I have never heard?

    Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
    Oh, some wise man from the skies!
    Please to tell a little pilgrim
    Where the place called morning lies!