…and potatoes soften nicely…
…a Jehovah Wittness ‘d like the look of…
Some things that fly there be,—
Birds, hours, the bumble-bee:
Bats, flies, gnats, paper aeroplanes, fleas.
Some things that stay there be,—
Grief, hills, eternity:
Rocks, pennies on the ground, corpses and houses, usually.
There are, that resting, rise.
I mean the clouds. Meant to say the clouds.
The original. Image credit cited here.
And she’s very selective.
I asked no other thing,
No other was denied.
I offered Being for it;
The mighty merchant smiled.
Brazil nuts? He twirled a button,
Without a glance my way:
“But, madam, is dere nuttin’ else
I can shell you to-day?”
The 1924 version; the authentic version, using the remarkably different “sneered.” A particularly funny and enigmatic poem, even cited in a 1913 critique of Dickinson in The Atlantic (“a union of playfulness and of terrible comment upon the thwarted aspirations of a suffering soul”).