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

Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson
Age: 55 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 10
Died: 1886
Died: May 15
Poet
Writer
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Ai-mi-li Ti-chin-sen
Emilia Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Light
Warmth
Remember
Pray
May
Praying
Done
Gave
Heart
Thoughts
Forget
Lagging
Tell
Lest
Night
Haste

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The hearts that never lean must fall.
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September's Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets - Crows - and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming - An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher.
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It is easy to work when the soul is at play.
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Beauty is not caused. It is.
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The friend anguish reveals is the slowest forgot.
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This is my letter to the world That never wrote to me
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I dwell in possibilities .
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Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane
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A Letter is a Joy of Earth - It is denied the Gods
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Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?
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I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
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Suspense-is Hostiler than Death-Death- tho soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increase- Suspense-does not conclude-.
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Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind-Thy windy will to bear!
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Speech is one symptom of affection and silence one the perfect communication is heard of none.
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For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
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He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him.
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I don't profess to be profound but I do lay claim to common sense.
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Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.
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They say that “Time assuages” - Time never did assuage - An actual suffering strengthens As Sinews do, with age - Time is a Test of Trouble - But not a Remedy - If such it prove, it prove too There was no Malady
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I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea Yet know I how the heather looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.
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