I miss you, mourn for you, and walk the streets alone- often at night, beside, I fall asleep in tears, for your dear face, yet not one word comes bac… - Emily Dickinson

GOING to him! Happy letter! Tell him — Tell him the page I did n’t write;
Tell him I only said the syntax,
And left the verb and the pronoun out.
Tell him just how the fingers hurried, 5
Then how they waded, slow, slow, slow;
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,
So you could see what moved them so.

“Tell him it was n’t a practised writer,
You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled; 10
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,
For it would split his heart to know it, 15
And then you and I were silenter.

“Tell him night finished before we finished,
And the old clock kept neighing ‘day!’
And you got sleepy and begged to be ended — What could it hinder so, to say? 20
Tell him just how she sealed you, cautious,
But if he ask where you are hid
Until to-morrow, — happy letter!
Gesture, coquette, and shake your head!

"Because I could not stop for Death" (479)

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

My life had stood — a Loaded Gun — In Corners — till a Day
The Owner passed — identified — And carried Me away — And now We roam in Sovereign Woods — And now We hunt the Doe — And every time I speak for Him — The Mountains straight reply — And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow — It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through — And when at Night — Our good Day done — I guard My Master's Head — 'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow — to have shared — To foe of His — I'm deadly foe — None stir the second time — On whom I lay a Yellow Eye — Or an emphatic Thumb — Though I than He — may longer live
He longer must — than I — For I have but the power to kill,
Without — the power to die —