Here you will find the Poem I was the slightest in the House of poet Emily Dickinson
486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Book— And one Geranium— So stationed I could catch the Mint That never ceased to fall— And just my Basket— Let me think—I'm sure— That this was all— I never spoke—unless addressed— And then, 'twas brief and low— I could not bear to live—aloud— The Racket shamed me so— And if it had not been so far— And any one I knew Were going—I had often thought How noteless—I could die—