Tho’ my Destiny Be Fustian, by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Tho’ my Destiny Be Fustian

163

Tho’ my destiny be Fustian—

Hers be damask fine—

Tho’ she wear a silver apron—

I, a less divine—

Still, my little Gypsy being

I would far prefer,

Still, my little sunburnt bosom

To her Rosier,

For, when Frosts, their punctual fingers

On her forehead lay,

You and I, and Dr. Holland,

Bloom Eternally!

Roses of a steadfast summer

In a steadfast land,

Where no Autumn lifts her pencil—

And no Reapers stand!

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

Enjoyed this read? Treat us to a coffee!.
Your help allows us to exist.

Other works by Emily Dickinson...

Flowers—Well—if anybody

137 Flowers—Well—if anybody Can the ecstasy define— Half a transport—half a trouble— With which flowers humble men:

As by the Dead We Love to Sit

88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—

The Missing All’—prevented Me

985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—

A first Mute Coming

702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—

There comes a warning like a spy

There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away

My Garden like the Beach

My Garden—like the Beach— Denotes there be—a Sea— That’s Summer— Such as These—the Pearls She fetches—such as Me

Like Flowers, That Heard the News of Dews

513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…

So Bashful When I Spied Her!

91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—

A Visitor in Marl

391 A Visitor in Marl— Who influences Flowers— Till they are orderly as Busts— And Elegant—as Glass—

Wild Nights! Wild Nights!

Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds

So From the Mould

66 So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise— Hidden away, cunningly, From saga…

To Die

To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—

I Reason, Earth Is Short

301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

I Felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280)

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading—treading—till it see… That Sense was breaking through— And when they all were seated,

Defrauded I a Butterfly

730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—

Emily Dickinson

Tho’ my Destiny Be Fustian

Share

Other works by Emily Dickinson...