Text
She bore it till the simple veins
by Emily Dickinson
She bore it till the simple veins
Traced azure on her hand —
Til pleading, round her quiet eyes
The purple Crayons stand.
Till Daffodils had come and gone
I cannot tell the sum,
And then she ceased to bear it —
And with the Saints sat down.
No more her patient figure
At twilight soft to meet —
No more her timid bonnet
Upon the village street —
But Crowns instead, and Courtiers —
And in the midst so fair,
Whose but her shy — immortal face
Of whom we’re whispering here?
Sheet Music
Thirteen Dickinson Songs
Composer(s): George Perle
Song(s): 1. Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower
2. I Like to see it lap the miles
3. I know some lonely Houses off the road
4. There came a Wind like a Bugle
5. Beauty—be not caused—It is
6. The Wind—tapped like a tired Man
7. These are the days when Birds come back
8. The Heart asks—Pleasure first
9. What if I say I shall not wait!
10. If I’m lost—now
11. The Loneliness One dare not sound
12. Under the Light, yet under
13. She bore it till the simple veins
Voice Type: Soprano
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