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Emily Dickinson - Tho' my destiny be Fustian

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!

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Added: Jan 9 2004 | Viewed: 4985 times | Comments and analysis of Tho' my destiny be Fustian by Emily Dickinson Comments (0)

Tho' my destiny be Fustian - Comments and Information

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 163. Tho' my destiny be Fustian
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
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