This Is my Letter to the World,, by Emily Dickinson

This Is my Letter to the World,

This is my letter to the world,

That never wrote to me,-

The simple news that Nature told,

With tender majesty

Her message is committed

To hands I cannot see;

For love of her, sweet countrymen,

Judge tenderly of me!

469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—

239 “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me!

711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—

126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—

Part One: Life XXXV I CAN wade grief, Whole pools of it,— I ’m used to that.

301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?

864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.

XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf

577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—

687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—

836 Truth—is as old as God— His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity—

106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet— He—waking—finds the flower there—

XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.

‘They have not chosen me,’ he said… ‘But I have chosen them!’ Brave’—Broken hearted statement’— Uttered in Bethlehem! I could not have told it,