Her little Parasol to lift
And once to let it down
Her whole Responsibility --
To imitate be Mine.
A Summer further I must wear,
Content if Nature's Drawer
Present me from sepulchral Crease
As blemishless, as Her.
Her little Parasol to lift
And once to let it down
Her whole Responsibility --
To imitate be Mine.
A Summer further I must wear,
Content if Nature's Drawer
Present me from sepulchral Crease
As blemishless, as Her.
© Emily Dickinson