You left me - Sire - two Legacies A Legacy of Love A Heavenly Father Had He the offer of - You left me Boundaries of Pain - Capacious as the Sea - B… - Emily Dickinson

Remorse is memory awake,
Her companies astir, — A presence of departed acts
At window and at door.

Its past set down before the soul,
And lighted with a match,
Perusal to facilitate
Of its condensed despatch.

Remorse is cureless, — the disease
Not even God can heal;
For ’t is His institution, — The complement of hell.

Death is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
But decoyed may be.

Bait it with the balsam,
Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
Everything in life.

Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill,
Ring the tree and leave it, — ’Tis the vermin’s will.

To that odd fork in Being’s road,
Eternity by term.