letters from dickinson to otis phillips lord

about 1878

Tuesday is a deeply depressing Day - it is not far enough from your dear note for the embryo of another to form, and yet what flights of Distance - and so I perish softly and spurn the Birds (spring) and spurn the Sun - with pathetic (dejected) malice - but when the Sun begins to turn the corner Thursday night - everything refreshes - the soft uplifting grows till by the time it is Sunday night, all my Life (Cheek) is Fever with nearness to your blissful words - (rippling words)

thomas johnson's note on letter 563 | index to dickinson/lord letters

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Last updated on December 3, 1999