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julie harris - letter to t w higginson, 25 april 1862 كلمات أغنية

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

- julie harris

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