Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/I tie my hat, I crease my shawl,
I TIE my hat, I crease my shawl,
Life's little duties do precisely
As the very least
Were infinite to me.
Life's little duties do precisely
As the very least
Were infinite to me.
I put new blossoms in the glass,
And throw the old away;
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there—I weigh
And throw the old away;
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there—I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock,
I have so much to do—
And get existence some way back,
Stopped, struck, my ticking through.
I have so much to do—
And get existence some way back,
Stopped, struck, my ticking through.
We cannot put ourselves away
As a completed man
Or woman—when the errand's done
We came to flesh upon.
As a completed man
Or woman—when the errand's done
We came to flesh upon.
There may be miles on miles of nought
Of action,—sicker far,
To simulate is stinging work
To cover what we are
Of action,—sicker far,
To simulate is stinging work
To cover what we are
From science and from surgery,
Too telescopic eyes
To bear on us unshaded,
For their sake, not for ours.
Too telescopic eyes
To bear on us unshaded,
For their sake, not for ours.