Secretive Women, Part II


From Dickinson's Master Letters, found here and here

Oh, did I offend it -- Daisy -- Daisy -- offend it -- who bends her smaller life to his meeker every day--who only asks--a task-- something to do for love of it -- some little way she cannot guess to make that master glad -- A love so big it scares her, rushing among her small heart--pushing aside the blood and leaving her faint and white in the gust's arm --

Daisy--who never flinched thro' that awful parting, but held her life so tight he should not see the wound--who would have sheltered him in her childish bosom -- only it was'nt big eno' for a Guest so large -- this Daisy -- grieve her Lord -- and yet it often blundered -- Perhaps she grieved his taste -- perhaps her odd --Backwoodsman ways teased his finer nature. Daisy knows all that -- but must she go unpardoned -- teach her, preceptor grace -- teach her majesty -- Slow at patrician things -- Even the wren upon her nest learns (knows) more than Daisy dares--

Low at the knee that bore her once unto wordless rest Daisy kneels a culprit -- tell her her fault -- Master -- if it is small eno' to cancel with her life, she is satisfied -- but punish don't banish her -- shut her in prison, Sir -- only pledge that you will forgive -- sometime -- before the grave, and Daisy will not mind -- she will awaken in your likeness.

[...]

Master -- open your life wide, and take me in forever, I will never be tired -- I will never be noisy when you want to be still. I will be your best little girl -- nobody else will see me, but you -- and that is enough -- I shall not want any more -- and all that Heaven only will disappoint me -- will be because it's not so dear.