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473 I am ashamed—I hide— What right have I—to be a Bride— So late a Dowerless Girl— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face— No one to teach me that new Grace— Nor introduce—my Soul— Me to adorn—How—tell— Trinket—to make Me beautiful— Fabrics of Cashmere— Never a Gown of Dun—more— Raiment instead—of Pompadour— For Me—My soul—to wear— Fingers—to frame my Round Hair Oval—as Feudal Ladies wore— Far Fashions—Fair— Skill to hold my Brow like an Earl— Plead—like a Whippoorwill— Prove—like a Pearl— Then, for Character— Fashion My Spirit quaint—white— Quick—like a Liquor— Gay—like Light— Bring Me my best Pride— No more ashamed— No more to hide— Meek—let it be—too proud—for Pride— Baptized—this Day—a Bride—
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 27 May 2012 6:20 AM | Viewed: 6273 times
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Emily Dickinson
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