The Poems of Emily Dickinson, Variorum Edition, Franklin, 1998
Emily Dickinson Archive
'Twas just this time, last year, I died.I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms - It had the Tassels on - I thought how yellow it would look -When Richard went to mill - And then, I wanted to get out, But something held my will. I thought just how Red - Apples wedged The Stubble's joints between -And Carts went stooping round the fields To take the Pumpkins in -I wondered which would miss me, least, And when Thanksgiving, came, If Father'd multiply the plates -To make an even Sum - And would it blur the Christmas glee My stocking hang too high For any Santa Claus to reach The altitude of me -But this sort, grieved myself, And so, I thought the other way, How just this time, some perfect year - Themself, should come to me -