July 1885

Dear friend -

The Amherst Heart is plain and whole and permanent and warm.

In childhood I never sowed a seed unless it was perennial - and that is why my Garden lasts.

We dare not trust ourselves to know that you indeed have left us.

The Fiction is sufficient pain. To know you better as you flee, may be our recompense. I hope that you are well, and nothing mars your peace but its divinity - for Ecstasy is peril.

With earnest recollection,

E. Dickinson.