Her Little Parasol To Lift

Emily Dickinson

1038

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.

Next 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Her Losses Make Our Gains Ashamed-
• Emily Dickinson : Her Smile Was Shaped Like Other Smiles
• Emily Dickinson : Her Sovereign People
• Emily Dickinson : Her Spirit Rose To Such A Height
• Emily Dickinson : Her Sweet Turn To Leave The Homestead
• Emily Dickinson : Her Sweet Weight On My Heart A Night
• Emily Dickinson : Here, Where The Daisies Fit My Head
• Emily Dickinson : Herein A Blossom Lies
• Emily Dickinson : Her-'last Poems'
• Emily Dickinson : High From The Earth I Heard A Bird

Previous 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Her Grace Is All She Has-
• Emily Dickinson : Her Final Summer Was It
• Emily Dickinson : Her Face Was In A Bed Of Hair
• Emily Dickinson : Her Breast Is Fit For Pearls
• Emily Dickinson : Heavenly Father-take To Thee
• Emily Dickinson : Heaven Is What I Cannot Reach!
• Emily Dickinson : Heaven Is So Far Of The Mind
• Emily Dickinson : Heaven Has Different Signs-to Me
• Emily Dickinson : Heart, Not So Heavy As Mine
• Emily Dickinson : Heart! We Will Forget Him!