On such a night, or such a night Emily Dickinson
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On such a night, or such a night
Would anybody care
If such a little figure
Slipped quiet from its chair
So quiet—Oh how quiet
That nobody might know
But that the little figure
Rocked softer—to and fro
On such a dawn, or such a dawn
Would anybody sigh
That such a little figure
Too sound asleep did lie
For Chanticleer to wake it
Or stirring house below
Or giddy bird in orchard
Or early task to do?
There was a little figure plump
For every little knoll
Busy needles, and spools of thread
And trudging feet from school
On such a night, or such a night
Would anybody care
If such a little figure
Slipped quiet from its chair
So quiet—Oh how quiet
That nobody might know
But that the little figure
Rocked softer—to and fro
On such a dawn, or such a dawn
Would anybody sigh
That such a little figure
Too sound asleep did lie
For Chanticleer to wake it
Or stirring house below
Or giddy bird in orchard
Or early task to do?
There was a little figure plump
For every little knoll
Busy needles, and spools of thread
And trudging feet from school
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