Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part One: Life CXXXVII |
| ONE day is there of the series | |
| Termed Thanksgiving day, | |
| Celebrated part at table, | |
| Part in memory. | |
| Neither patriarch nor pussy, | 5 |
| I dissect the play; | |
| Seems it, to my hooded thinking, | |
| Reflex holiday. | |
| Had there been no sharp subtraction | |
| From the early sum, | 10 |
| Not an acre or a caption | |
| Where was once a room, | |
| Not a mention, whose small pebble | |
| Wrinkled any bay,— | |
| Unto such, were such assembly, | 15 |
| ’T were Thanksgiving day. |
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