Sunday afternoon -|
My Susie's last request; yes, darling, I grant it, tho' few, and fleet the days which separate us now - but six more weary days, but six more twilight evens, and my lone little fireside, my silent fireside is once more full.
"We are seven, and one in heaven," we are three next Saturday, if I have mine and heaven has none.
Do not mistake, my Susie, and rather than the car, ride on the golden wings where you will ne'er come back again - do not forget the lane, and the little cot that stands by it, when people from the clouds will beckon you, and smile at you, to have you go with them - Oh Susie, my child, I sit here by my window, and look each little while down towards that golden gateway beneath the western trees, and I fancy I see you coming, you trip upon the green grass, and I hear the crackling leaf under your
little shoe; I hide behind the chair, I think I will surprise you, I grow
too eager to see you. I hasten to the door, and start to find me that you are not there. And very,
very often when I have waked from sleep, not quite waked, I have been sure I saw you, and your
dark eye beamed on me with such a look of tenderness that I could only weep, and bless God for
Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to?
Shall I indeed behold you, not "darkly, but face to face" or am I fancying so, and dreaming blessed dreams from which the day will wake me? I hope for you so much, and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you - that the expectation once more to see your face again, makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast - I go to sleep at night, and the first thing I know, I am sitting there wide awake, and clasping my hands
tightly, and thinking of next Saturday, and "never a bit" of you.|
Sometimes I must have Saturday before tomorrow comes, and I wonder if it w'd make any difference with God, to give it to me today, and I'll let him have Monday, to make him a Saturday; and then I feel so funnily, and wish the precious day would'nt come quite so soon, till I could know how to feel, and get my thoughts ready for it.
Why, Susie, it seems to me as if my absent Lover was coming home so soon - and my heart must be so busy, making ready for him.
While the minister this morning was giving an account of the Roman Catholic system, and announcing several facts which were usually startling, I was trying to make up my mind wh' of the two was prettiest to go and welcome you in, my fawn colored dress, or my blue dress. Just as I had decided by all means to wear the blue, down came the minister's fist with a terrible rap on the counter, and
Susie, it scared me so, I hav'nt got over it yet, but I'm glad I reached a conclusion! I
walked home from meeting with Mattie, and incidentally quite, something was said of you - and I
think one of us remarked that you would be here next Sunday; well - Susie - what it was I dont
presume to know, but my gaiters seemed to leave me, and I seemed to move on wings - and I
move on wings now, Susie, on wings as white as snow, and as bright as the summer sunshine -
because I am with you, and so few short days, you are with me at home. Be patient then, my
Sister, for the hours will haste away, and Oh so soon!|
Susie, I write most hastily, and very carelessly too, for it is time for me to get the supper, and my mother is gone and besides, my darling, so near I seem to you, that I disdain this pen, and wait for a warmer language. With Vinnie's love, and my love, I am once more
Dickinson Electronic Archives Main Menu
Image reproduced by permission of
the Houghton Library, Harvard University. Not to be reproduced in whole or
in part without permission.
Transcription and commentary copyright 1996 by Martha Nell Smith, all rights reserved
Last updated on July 14, 1998
Maintained by Tanya Clement <firstname.lastname@example.org>