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lirik lagu julie harris - letter to t w higginson, 25 april 1862

mr higginson

your kindness claimed earlier gratitude~but i was ill~and write today, from my pillow

thank you for the surgery~ it was not so painful as i supposed. i bring you others~as you ask~though they might not differ~

while my thought is undressed~i can make the distinction, but when i put them in the gown ~ they look alike, and numb

you asked how old i was? i made no verse~but one or two~until this winter ~ sir~

i had a terror~since september~i could tell to none~and so i sing, as the boy does by the burying ground~because i am afraid~ you inquire my books~for poets~i have keats~and mr and mrs browning. for prose ~ mr ruskin ~ sir thomas browne ~ and the revelations. i went to school~but in your manner of the phrase~had no education. when a little girl, i had a friend, who taught me im~ mortality~but venturing too near, himself~he never returned~soon after, my tutor, died ~ and for several years, my lexicon ~ was my only companion~then i found one more~but he was not contented i be his scholar~so he left the land

you ask of my companions hills~ sir~and the sundown~and a dog~large as myself, that my father bought me~they are better than beings~because they know~but do not tell~and the noise in the pool, at noon ~ excels my piano. i have a brother and sister ~ my mother does not care for thought~and father, too busy with his briefs ~ to notice what we do ~ he buys me many books ~ but begs me not to rcad thcm~because he fears they joggle the mind. they are religious~except me~and address an eclipse, every morning~whom they call their “father.” but i fear my story fatigues you~i would like to learn~could you tell me how to grow~or is it unconveyed~ like melody~or witchcraft?

you speak of mr whitman~i never read his book~but was told that he was disgraceful~

i read miss prcscott’s “circumstance,” but it followed me, in the dark~so i avoided her~

two editors of journals came to my father’s house, this winter~ and asked me for my mind~and when i asked them “why,” they said i was penurious ~ and they, would use it for the world ~

i could not weigh myself~myself~

my size felt small~ to me~ i read your chapters in the atlantic~ and experienced honor for you~i was sure you would not reject a confiding question~

is this~ sir~what you asked me to tell you?
your friend
e ~ d~ckinson

- lirik lagu julie harris

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