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<div id="divcontainer"> <p> Margaux Bouchegnies
Professor Angela Carr Emily Dickinson March 2020 For this project, I
chose to compose two original songs based on the poetry and letters of
Emily Dickinson. By interpreting Dickinson’s poetry through a musical
lens, my goal was to highlight the intimacy with which she tackles big
ideas and gain a greater familiarity with her voice through song.
Additionally, I was curious to examine how her use of dashes might
translate sonically. In researching music inspired by Emily Dickinson, I
found a lot of songs that used her poetry as lyrics verbatim. Oftentimes
I felt as though her words were being forced into a clashing cadence.
For this project, I wanted to experiment with being openly influenced by
the language and themes of her poetry instead of transcribing it line
for line. I began this process by scouring Cristanne Miller’s, Emily
Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, revisiting poems read in and
outside of class. Poems that struck me most were organized by theme with
death/dying and Susan being the most prominent. With a guitar in hand, I
scanned the poems in their respective categories for words and phrases
that stuck out to me. One of my main priorities as a songwriter and
lyricist is to focus on the ways in which the content and sounds of the
words work together with the melody and harmony. In composing each song,
I experimented with different lyrical ideas alongside guitar ideas to
see how they might compliment each other. For both songs, music and
lyrics were composed in parallel in an effort to let each component be
inspired by the other. Everlasting Snow and Maple’s Loom were recorded
onto tape with the help of Sahil Ansari at Dodge 112 studios in Gowanus,
Brooklyn. [[Lyrics to Everlasting Snow]] <p><style> tw-story {
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[[Fade out]] – [[Blank]] now It’s alright – And I will go to [[Sleep]]
now – Deep down It’s my time – The everlasting [[Snow]] – I know She
will bring the light The [[Bee]] – The Rose [[Dollie’s here->Snow]]
tonight Mourning – Daisies Keep secrets – Of what’s between us Bright
red – White bed A [[shadow]] – An overwhelming [[Formal feeling]] Then
the freezing Now – the letting go Over dew the [[Midnight meeting]] Then
– the final show – No [[I – couldn’t stop]] – For the [[white heat]]
Well I – heard the song – Of the [[bobolink->Bee]] [[Brief but
patient->Bee]] buzzing thru the Light – Over dew we’re holding out
our Time – Sister – Trust her She won’t tell – Forever under [[Passed By
– Passed Us]] The suns down – And I am just fine [[Next]] </p> <style> tw-story {
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[[One – hedge away]] Like a sister – that isn’t – the same Now forever –
I’m calling – your name [[Love – ever true]] In a [[leaflet]] – a secret
– For Sue In a [[petal]] – the words – I love you [[Shall I think of –
You sunset – and noon]] Time – [[time was filled and full]] Build a nest
dear – And don’t fear – No more [[I – a Sparrow]] – Awake in – The morn
[[Wild]] – bright and like a [[star->One – hedge away]] You’re my
only – That I see – No more [[You’re a bee now – A Breeze now – The
rose->petal]] Tender flower – Breathless – Hour – [[Might I moor
tonight in thee?->Wild]] Like a [[maples loom]] a [[flask of
dew->petal]] – For – You – [[Livelong – June]] [[Next->Next2]]
</p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Pain – has an
Element of Blank – It cannot recollect When it begun – Or if there was A
time when it was not – It has no future – but itself – Its iInfinite
contain Its Past – Enlightened to perceive New periods – Of pain. -
Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> If this is “fading”
Oh let me immediately “fade”! If this is “dying” Bury – me, in such a
shroud of red! If this is “sleep,” On such a night How proud to shut the
eye! Good evening, gentle Fellow men! Peacock presumes to die! - Emily
Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> A long — long Sleep
— A famous — Sleep — That makes no show for Morn — By Stretch of Limb —
or stir of Lid — An independent One — Was ever idleness like This? Upon
a Bank of Stone To bask the Centuries away — Nor once look up — for
Noon? -Emily Dickinson </p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Dying! Dying in the
night! Won't somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow? And "Jesus"! Where is Jesus gone?
They said that Jesus – always came – Perhaps he doesn't know the
House – This way, Jesus, Let him pass! Somebody run to the great gate
And see if Dollie's coming! Wait! I hear her feet upon the stair!
Death won't hurt – now Dollie's here! - Emily Dickinson
</p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> A brief, but
patient illness— An hour to prepare, And one below this morning Is where
the angels are— It was a short procession, The Bobolink was there— An
aged Bee addressed us— And then we knelt in prayer— We trust that she
was willing— We ask that we may be. Summer—Sister—Seraph! Let us go with
thee! - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Presentiment is
that long shadow on the lawn Indicative that suns go down; The notice to
the startled grass That darkness is about to pass. </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> After great pain, a
formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The
stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ And ‘Yesterday, or
Centuries before’? The Feet, mechanical, go round – A Wooden way Of
Ground, or Air, or Ought – Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like
a stone – This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived, As
Freezing persons, recollect the Snow – First – Chill – then Stupor –
then the letting go – - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> One need not be a
Chamber—to be Haunted— One need not be a House— The Brain has
Corridors—surpassing Material Place— Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting
External Ghost Than its interior Confronting— That Cooler Host. Far
safer, through an Abbey gallop, The Stones a’chase— Than Unarmed, one’s
a’self encounter— In lonesome Place— Ourself behind ourself, concealed—
Should startle most— Assassin hid in our Apartment Be Horror’s least.
The Prudent – carries a Revolver— He bolts the Door— O’erlooking a
superior spectre— Or More— - Emily Dickinson </p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Dare you see a Soul
at the "White Heat"? Then crouch within the door— Red—is the
Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s
conditions— It quivers from the Forge Without a color, but the Light Of
unannointed Blaze— Least Village, boasts its Blacksmith— Whose Anvil’s
even ring Stands symbol for the finer Forge That soundless tugs—within—
Refining these impatient Ores With Hammers, and with Blaze Until the
designated Light Repudiate the Forge— - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> 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— - Emily
Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> 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— - Emily
Dickinson </p><style> tw-story {
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line-height: 28px; font-size: 20px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.84);
margin-left: 45px; margin-right: 30px; margin-top: -56px; }
#divcontainer { background-color: #8d7e509e; margin-left: -60px;
margin-right: -60px; margin-top: -78px; height: 100%; padding-bottom:
20px; } </style> <div id="divcontainer"> <p>
Through an abundance of metaphors and symbolic imagery, Emily
Dickinson’s poetry often evokes a keen sense of familiarity and
acceptance with death. Everlasting Snow is an ode to this outlook and
the sincerity with which she faces the end of life. While most words and
phrases are drawn from her poetry, I’ve included my own voice and
stylistic choices as well. Instead of sticking to her common meter, I
decided to break away and loosen the cadence, while implementing her
dashes as drawn out syllables. From my perspective, the dashes represent
a kind of sonic energy that supports to elongate a given word/note. The
somber tone is meant to evoke the emotions of grief surrounding loss,
accompanied by a traditional folk picking pattern to symbolize a kind of
pulse and march forward towards death. A brief higher chord over the
words “through” and “out” during the interlude serve to propel the
character of Dickinson into the type of letting go and relinquishing of
fear necessary to face the end. In honor of her homonyms, I included the
occasional “mourning” and “dew” to play with the double meanings
Dickinson so often employs. Hints at Susan are present throughout the
lyrics such as, “She will bring the light .... Dollie’s here tonight …
Sister – Trust her,” as reference to the ways in which Emily alludes to
a partnership with Susan when writing about departing into the
afterlife. Everlasting Snow is a song deeply inspired by Emily
Dickinson’s own acceptance and intimate relationship with death.
[[Lyrics to Maple's Loom]] </p>
<style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> One Sister have I
in our house - And one a hedge away. There's only one recorded, But
both belong to me. One came the way that I came - And wore my past
year's gown - The other as a bird her nest, Builded our hearts
among. She did not sing as we did - It was a different tune - Herself to
her a Music As Bumble-bee of June. Today is far from Childhood - But up
and down the hills I held her hand the tighter - Which shortened all the
miles - And still her hum The years among, Deceives the Butterfly; Still
in her Eye The Violets lie Mouldered this many May. I spilt the dew -
But took the morn, - I chose this single star From out the wide
night's numbers - Sue - forevermore! - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> "... Mattie is
very smart, talks of you much, my darling; I must leave you now –
"one little hour of Heaven," thank you did give it me, and
will he also grant me one longer and more when it shall please his love
– bring Susie home, ie! Love always, and ever, and true! Emily –"
Excerpt of a letter from Emily to Susan ~ February 1852 (Hart and Smith
pg. 13) </p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> So bashful when I
spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody
find— So breathless till I passed here— So helpless when I turned And
bore her struggling, blushing, Her simple haunts beyond! For whom I
robbed the Dingle— For whom betrayed the Dell— Many, will doubtless ask
me, But I shall never tell! - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> A sepal, petal, and
a thorn Upon a common summer's morn — A flask of Dew — A Bee or two
— A Breeze — a caper in the trees — And I'm a Rose! - Emily
Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> "... give me
one little glimpse of your sweet face, dear Susie, and I will tell you
all – we didn't talk of statesmen, and we didn't talk of kings –
but the time was filled full, and when the latch was lifted and the
oaken door was closed, why, Susie I realized as never I did before, how
much a single cottage held that was dear to me." Excerpt of a
letter from Emily to Susan ~ February 1852 (Hart and Smith pg. 17)
</p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Her breast is fit
for pearls, But I was not a "Diver.” Her brow is fit for thrones –
But I had not a crest. Her heart is fit for home— I—a Sparrow—build
there Sweet of twigs and twine My perennial nest. - Emily Dickinson
</p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Wild nights - Wild
nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury! Futile - the
winds - To a Heart in port - Done with the Compass - Done with the
Chart! Rowing in Eden - Ah - the Sea! Might I but moor - tonight - In
thee! - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> The Gentian weaves
her fringes — The Maple's loom is red — My departing blossoms
Obviate parade. - Emily Dickinson </p> <style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
background-size: tile; background-size: cover; } p { font-family:
initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> I'm Nobody! Who
are you? Are you—Nobody—Too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't
tell! they'd advertise—you know! How dreary—to be—Somebody! How
public—like a Frog— To tell one's name—the livelong June— To an
admiring Bog! - Emily Dickinson </p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://i1.wp.com/www.brainpickings.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/emilydickinson_herbarium8.jpg?resize=680%2C843&ssl=1");
background-size: tile; } p { font-family: initial; font-weight: bolder;
line-height: 28px; font-size: 20px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.84);
margin-left: 45px; margin-right: 30px; margin-top: -56px;
padding-bottom: 20px; } #divcontainer { background-color: #8d7e509e;
margin-left: -60px; margin-right: -60px; margin-top: -78px; height:
100%; } </style> <div id="divcontainer"> <p>
When I first started writing this song I tried out something cheery and
innocent. While Emily and Susan’s relationship contains lightness, I
quickly realized that this love song must deserve more depth and notes
of longing. Enchanted by Dickinson’s language surrounding love and
secrecy, I plucked phrases and lines from her poetry and letters to
piece together a patient serenade for Susan. In this song the dashes are
meant to function as a space for that patience. Words are sewn together
by these dashes, sometimes by way of sound or a pause for breath. A
quarter note descending progression works to symbolize the kind of
pouring of desire present in Dickinson’s writing. While most of the
chords repeat, there’s a twinge near the end. Over the lines, “Tender
flower / Breathless – Hour,” a minor tone takes over. While the lyrics
shift to more of her erotic language, a dissonance is played out in the
harmony. Between the era and the family ties, their relationship was
considered forbidden on multiple levels. The musical dissonance is meant
to represent the layers to their love affair, which weren’t always
cheery. Without lingering too long, the outro returns to the original
chords and settles. Maple’s Loom speaks to the raw kinds of longing and
loving that Emily emotes through her poetry and letters, and the complex
relationship between the two women. [[Works Cited]]
</p><style> tw-story {
background-image:url("https://img.freepik.com/free-photo/grunge-vintage-old-paper-background_1373-431.jpg?size=626&ext=jpg");
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initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> Works Cited
Dickinson, Emily. “A brief, but patient illness –.” Emily Dickinson’s
Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap
Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 33. Dickinson, Emily. “After
great pain, a formal feeling comes –.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She
Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2016, p. 198. Dickinson, Emily. “A long — long Sleep —
A famous — Sleep —.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them,
edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University
Press, 2016, p. 232 Dickinson, Emily. “A sepal, petal, and a thorn.”
Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne
Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 34.
Dickinson, Emily. “Because I could not stop for Death—.” Emily
Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller,
The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 239. Dickinson,
Emily. “Dare you see a Soul at the ‘White Heat’?” Emily Dickinson’s
Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap
Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 214. Dickinson, Emily.
“Dying! Dying in the night!” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved
Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2016, p. 111. Dickinson, Emily. “Her breast is fit for
pearls.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by
Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016,
p. 75. Dickinson, Emily. “If this is ‘fading’.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems:
As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of
Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 74. Dickinson, Emily. “I'm
Nobody! Who are you?.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them,
edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University
Press, 2016, p. 128. Dickinson, Emily. “One need not be a Chamber—to be
Haunted—.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by
Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016,
p. 217. Dickinson, Emily. “One Sister have I in our house –.” Emily
Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller,
The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 46 Dickinson,
Emily. “Pain – has an Element of Blank –.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As
She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of
Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 352. Dickinson, Emily. “Presentiment
is that long shadow on the lawn.” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She
Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2016, p. 242. Dickinson, Emily. “So bashful when I
spied her!” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by
Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016,
p. 53. Dickinson, Emily. “The Gentian weaves her fringes —.” Emily
Dickinson’s Poems: As She Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller,
The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2016, p. 33. Dickinson,
Emily. “Wild nights - Wild nights!” Emily Dickinson’s Poems: As She
Preserved Them, edited by Cristanne Miller, The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 2016, p. 133. Hart, Ellen Louise and Smith, Martha
Nell, editor. Open Me Carefully: Emily Dickinson’s Intimate Letters to
Susan Huntington Dickinson. Weslyan University Press, 1998.
</p>
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initial; font-weight: bolder; font-size: 19px; color: rgba(0, 0, 0,
0.84); margin-top: -70px; } </style> <p> "... Susie – I
shall think of you at sunset, and at sunrise again; and at noon, and
forenoon, and afternoon, and always, and evermore, till this little
heart stops beating and is still. Emilie" Excerpt of a letter from
Emily to Susan ~ May 1852 (Hart and Smith pg. 29)
</p>