Emily Dickinson Poems

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You'll know Her -- by Her Foot --
The smallest Gamboge Hand
With Fingers -- where the Toes should be --
Would more affront the Sand --

Than this Quaint Creature's Boot --
Adjusted by a Stern --
Without a Button -- I could vouch --
Unto a Velvet Limb --

You'll know Her -- by Her Vest --
Tight fitting -- Orange -- Brown --
Inside a Jacket duller --
She wore when she was born --

Her Cap is small -- and snug --
Constructed for the Winds --
She'd pass for Barehead -- short way off --
But as She Closer stands --

So finer 'tis than Wool --
You cannot feel the Seam --
Nor is it Clasped unto of Band --
Nor held upon -- of Brim --

You'll know Her -- by Her Voice --
At first -- a doubtful Tone --
A sweet endeavor -- but as March
To April -- hurries on --

She squanders on your Ear
Such Arguments of Pearl --
You beg the Robin in your Brain
To keep the other -- still --

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