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Going to Him! Happy letter!



Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him —
Tell Him the page I didn't write —
Tell Him — I only said the Syntax —
And left the Verb and the pronoun out —
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried—
Then — how they waded — slow — slow —
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages —
So you could see what moved them so —

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer —
You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled —
You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you —
As if it held but the might of a child —
You almost pitied it — you — it worked so —
Tell Him — no — you may quibble there...

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Poems by Emily Dickinson

Heart, not so heavy as mine



83

Heart, not so heavy as mine
Wending late home—
As it passed my window
Whistled itself a tune—
A careless snatch—a ballad—A ditty of the street—
Yet to my irritated Ear
An Anodyne so sweet—
It was as if a Bobolink
Sauntering this way
Carolled, and paused, and carolled—
Then bubbled slow away!
It was as if a chirping brook
Upon a dusty way—
Set bleeding feet to minuets
Without the knowing why!
Tomorrow, night will come again—
Perhaps, weary and sore—
Ah Bugle! By my window
I pray you pass once more.

Poems by Emily Dickinson

Heart, We Will Forget Him



Heart, we will forget him,
You and I, tonight!
You must forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.
When you have done pray tell me,
Then I, my thoughts, will dim.
Haste! ‘lest while you’re lagging
I may remember him!

Poems by Emily Dickinson

Her final Summer was it



Her final Summer was it—
And yet We guessed it not—
If tenderer industriousness
Pervaded Her, We thought

A further force of life
Developed from within—
When Death lit all the shortness up
It made the hurry plain—

We wondered at our blindness
When nothing was to see
But Her Carrara Guide post—
At Our Stupidity...

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Poems by Emily Dickinson

Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night



518

Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Had scarcely deigned to lie—
When, stirring, for Belief's delight,
My Bride had slipped away—

If 'twas a Dream—made solid—just
The Heaven to confirm—
Or if Myself were dreamed of Her—
The power to presume—

With Him remain—who unto Me—
Gave—even as to All—
A Fiction superseding Faith—
By so much—as 'twas real—

Poems by Emily Dickinson

How happy I was if I could forget



898

How happy I was if I could forget
To remember how sad I am
Would be an easy adversity
But the recollecting of Bloom

Keeps making November difficult
Till I who was almost bold
Lose my way like a little Child
And perish of the cold.

Poems by Emily Dickinson

How happy is the little Stone



1510

How happy is the little Stone
That rambles in the Road alone,
And doesn't care about Careers
And Exigencies never fears—
Whose Coat of elemental Brown
A passing Universe put on,
And independent as the Sun
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
In casual simplicity—

Poems by Emily Dickinson

I have a Bird in spring



5

I have a Bird in spring
Which for myself doth sing—
The spring decoys.
And as the summer nears—
And as the Rose appears,
Robin is gone.

Yet do I not repine
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown—
Learneth beyond the sea
Melody new for me
And will return....

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Poems by Emily Dickinson

I rosebecause He sank



616

I rose—because He sank—
I thought it would be opposite—
But when his power dropped—
My Soul grew straight.

I cheered my fainting Prince—
I sang firm—even—Chants—
I helped his Film—with Hymn—

And when the Dews drew off
That held his Forehead stiff—
I met him—
Balm to Balm...

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Poems by Emily Dickinson

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