"I taste a liquor never brewed" I taste a liquor never brewed — From Tankards scooped in Pearl — Not all the Vats upon the Rhine Yield such an Alcoh… - Emily Dickinson

Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

A letter always feels to me like Immortality because it is the mind alone without corporeal friend.

Because that you are going And never coming back And I, however absolute, May overlook your Track -

Because that Death is final, However first it be,

This instant be suspended Above Mortality -

Significance that each has lived The other to detect Discovery not God himself Could now annihilate

Eternity, Presumption The instant I perceive That you, who were Existence Yourself forgot to live -

The “Life that is” will then have been A thing I never knewAs Paradise fictitious Until the Realm of you-

The “Life that is to be,” to me,

A Residence too plain Unless in my Redeemer’s Face I recognize your own -

Of Immortality who doubts He may exchange with me Curtailed by your obscuring Face Of everything but He -

Of Heaven and Hell I also yield The Right to reprehend To whoso would commute this Face For his less priceless Friend.