Dickinson, #330 He put the Belt around my life

from 1862, when she was writing a poem or more a day.

He put the Belt around my life—
I heard the Buckle snap—
And turned away, imperial,
My Lifetime folding up—
Deliberate, as Duke would do
A Kingdom’s Title Deed—
Henceforth—a Dedicated sort—
A Member of the Cloud—

Yet not too far to come at call—
And do the little Toils
That make the Circuit of the Rest—
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine—
and kindly ask it in—
Whose invitation, know you not
For Whom I must decline?

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