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ClassicsEmily Dickinson
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me. One came the road that I came— And wore my last year’s gown— The other, as a bird her nest, Builded our hearts among. She did not sing as we did— It was a different tune— Herself to her a music As Bumble bee of June. Today is far from Childhood— But up and down the hills I held her hand the tighter— Which shortened all the miles— And still her hum The years among, Deceives the Butterfly; Still in her Eye The Violets lie Mouldered this many May. I spilt the dew— But took the morn— I chose this single star From out the wide night’s numbers— Sue—forevermore!
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One Sister have I in our house
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me. One came the road that I came— And wore my last year’s gown— The other, as a bird her nest, Builded our hearts among. She did not sing as we did— It was a different tune— Herself to her a music As Bumble bee of June. Today is far from Childhood— But up and down the hills I held her hand the tighter— Which shortened all the miles— And still her hum The years among, Deceives the Butterfly; Still in her Eye The Violets lie Mouldered this many May. I spilt the dew— But took the morn— I chose this single star From out the wide night’s numbers— Sue—forevermore!
Emily Dickinson
Classics
Emily Dickinson
1830 - 1886/Female/American