American History - Emily Dickinson

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,—
They looked like frightened beads, I thought
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Let's be honest: Emily Dickinson was horrible at rhyming. It is a testament to how forgiving America is that we even allowed her to be called a poet. I mean, you couldn't be much worse at rhyming than Ms. Dickinson even if you didn't know what the word 'rhyme' meant.

I know no one cares about this, but it's been bugging me for a couple of decades. Glad it's out in the open now.