< a819.txt.1; letter_with_poems_embedded >
tell a Foot,
Take all away
from me, but
leave me Ecstasy,
And I am
richer then, than
all my Fellowmen -
Is it becoming
me to dwell
so wealthily,
When at my very
Door are those
possessing more -
in abject poverty -
But the strength
to perish is some-
times withheld -
That you glance

<second sheet, first leaf (A 819a)>
at Japan as you
breakfast, not in
the least surprises
me, thronged only
with Music, like
the Decks of Birds -
Thank you for
hoping I am well -
Who could be
ill in March -
that Month of
proclamation?
Sleigh Bells and
Jays contend in
my Matinee, and
the North surren-
ders instead of
the South, a

<second sheet, second leaf (A 819 b)>
reverse of Bugles -
Pity me, however,
I have finished
Ramona -
Would that like
Shakespeare, it
were just published!
Knew I how to
pray, to intercede
for your Foot
were intuitive -
but I am but
a Pagan -
Of God we ask
one favor, that
we may be for-
given -
For what, he is

<third sheet, first leaf (A 819c)>
presumed to know -
The Crime, from
us, is hidden -
Immured the whole
of Life
Within a magic
Prison
We reprimand the
Happiness
That too com-
petes with Heaven -
May I once
more know,
and that you
are saved?
Your Dickinson -