I Was The Slightest In The House
Emily Dickinson
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Book— And one Geranium— So stationed I could catch the Mint That never ceased to fall— And just my Basket— Let me think—I’m sure— That this was all— I never spoke—unless addressed— And then, ’twas brief and low— I could not bear to live—aloud— The Racket shamed me so— And if it had not been so far— And any one I knew Were going—I had often thought How noteless—I could die—
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- Emily Dickinson : I Was A Phoebe-nothing More-
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- Emily Dickinson : I Think To Live-may Be A Bliss
- Emily Dickinson : I Think The Longest Hour Of All
