Split the lark and you'll hear the music; Poetry and letters of Emily Dickinson

Split the lark and you'll find the music a program of poetry and letters of Emily Dickinson. Eighty five years ago. Death stopped for Emily Dickinson. She died on May 15th 1896. In Amherst Massachusetts. The same town in which she was born 56 years earlier. On December 10th 1830. She is best known as a spinster woman and a recluse. Who spent her entire life in Amherst writing poetry. But it was actually not until her later years that she secluded herself more and more from the outside. She was a

student at the Amherst the cademy and for a year went to Mary Lyons female seminary which is now at Mount Holyoke College. She often visited Boston. And went to Washington when her father was elected to the Congress. It was on the return from Washington at the age of 24 that Emily's future was sealed according to those who knew her. There she came in contact with a powerful preacher scholar and poet a man already married and whom it is said she loved in silence. The rest of her life. If they only did not travel in her later years it was only her body that remained at home. Her mind was everywhere. She was a mystic a woman who snapped at conventions. A woman of tremendous independent and powerful insight which her

poetry reveals on August 29 971 the United States Postal Service remembered. Emily Dickinson by issuing a stamp in her honor. The evening before the day of issue on August 20 8th actress Mildred Dunn gave an unusual reading of Emily Dickinson's poetry and letters entitled split the lark and you'll find the music. Miss Donna has had many memorable roles on Broadway and in motion pictures. She is accompanied on the piano by Mr. George Henry and from a recording by pianist Christoph Eschenbach. The music is by Robert Schumann. Before I begin the program I'd like to tell you a little bit about her. It

started. And I like to. Reassure you that I'm not trying to interact and live Dickinson. And I'd like to tell you what the program is not some However I'm hoping tonight that there. Are No biographers who hear no psychoanalysts No. What shall I say. Nobody's seeking for anything particular. In this particular program. A number of years ago I came here to give an old woman program. In honor of Frank Prentice run. While I was here. He took me to. The Malaysian home. And he said to me. At supper that night rattled. Do a programme about Emily Dickinson. Well I suppose all actresses never say never lead to anything and I said Oh that would be wonderful. And rather that was the end of it though I was quite intrigued and fascinated

by the idea. He was retiring that year and went to Florida. And spent time thinking about it. And doing it. I mean. To make a long story short here not with a circus program. I think you'll read in your little calendar there. He said Why not just Emily Dickens poems let them speak for themselves. Somehow or other we tried to find some way to give a pattern to this little program which we had. I struggled with it for two years and just couldn't find out how or to dramatize it because after all I'm thinking always in terms of playing a character then run a year. My daughter was teaching in a girls school and I needed lights for the stage and she said Oh mummy couldn't you do something and we could charge admission. I said no I couldn't possibly. But somehow or other. The head of the school

had found out that I was her mother. And he said Oh won't you do something Miss Donne and I said I'm not a solo performer. I really like to. Act in ensembles and I. Couldn't be on the stage by myself and he said well we've got a kind of wild Southern woman on our faculty and that she join you. And that's how George Henry and I are that together. I. Read it anyway about that time I felt now it's high time that I forced myself. To find some way to present this material. So I George Henry and I were for the greater crowd of the year trying to find some way to make this material. An evening's entertainment a pleasant evening. We thought she thought i just because she was contemporary with Emily

Dickinson but somehow or other he didn't show the door all. And then one night. She was playing she and I said that hips. So then they. Began one of the pleasantest experiences of my life. Because I'm really rather an educated in certain areas especially. We spent most of the winter exploring. And putting together a show man and Emily Dickinson not really to gether not to enhance the one or the other but as a sort of comment. On Emily Dickinson's poems. Now this particular program furled into three sections. So if we do it without an intermission. So you're stuck here for about an hour and five minutes. And if that's too much for you you better move to the back right now. But I think you're right. I think the section in the first section has to do with.

The second subject which interested me and with which particular which with which. Section has to do with. So thank you for coming. We'll see you at the end of the program. They're everywhere. The 23rd 1845

day. It is sad to see this. It is very windy and cold and the hills from our kitchen window are just crusted with snow which with their blue mantillas makes them beautiful. Father and mother sit in stage in the sitting room. We're losing such papers only as they are well assured have nothing Kahlil in them. Vinnie is eating an apple which makes me think of gold and a cunning yet with her favorite observer which if you recollect deprives us many of a time of her sisterly society Percy hasn't returned from the afternoon assembly. All is still around me. I am alone with all my little writing desk. When the minister this morning was giving an account of the Roman Catholic system and announcing several facts which were unusually startling I was trying to make up my mind which of the two was prettiest to go and welcome you in my form color 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 it scared me so I haven't got over it yet. But I'm glad I reached a conclusion. Now I am alone with God and my mind is filled with many solemn thoughts. I am not concerned up on the all important subject to which you have so frequently and so affectionately called my attention in your letters. But I feel that I have not yet made my peace with God. I am still a stranger to the delightful emotions which fill your heart. I do not feel that I could give up all for Christ where I call to die does not eternity seem dreadful to you. I often get thinking of it and it seems so dark to me that I almost wish there was no eternity.

To think that we must for ever live and never cease to be. It seems as if death which you also dread because it launches us upon an unknown world would be a relief to so endless A state of existence. They are in a bind. I was almost persuaded to be a Christian. I thought our never again could be thoughtless and Wormley and I can say that I never enjoyed such perfect peace and happiness as the short time in which I felt I'd found my savior. But soon I forgot my morning prayer or else it was irksome to me one by one my old habits returned and I cared less for religion than ever. I feel that I shall never be happy without I love Christ when I am most happy there is a sting in every enjoyment I find no rose without a thought. I continually hear Christ saying to me daughter. Give me thy hall which

I am continually putting off becoming a Christian. Evil voices Lisp in my ear. There is yet time enough. I feel that every day I live I sin more and more and closing my heart to the offers of mercy. Praise for me dear the buyer that I may yet enter into the kingdom that there may be room left for me in The Shining quotes above. I hope God will forgive me as he will have too many ties. If he lives long enough. What is paradise. Who lives there. All they found us DO THEY WHOLE do they know that this is an honest and that I am coming to New Day with new shoes. Is it

always pleasant. They scold us when we are hungry. God how cross we are. You are sure that such a person as a father in the sky is. So if I get lost there ever. Or do what the nurse calls die. I shan't walk the Jasper barefoot ransomed folks won't laugh at me. Maybe so long as New England use to be. Above the regard a mouse powered by the cat reserve within the I Kingdom am mansion for the rat say seraphic cupboards to nibble old today while UN

suspecting cycle we solemnly away. It is indeed a jealous God. He cannot bear to see that we had rather not with him but with each other. I never felt at home below and in the handsome skies I shall not feel at home. I know I don't like paradise because it's Sunday all the time and the recess never come loose and it will be so. Lonesome bright Wednesday afternoon. If God could make a visit or never took a nap so nuff to see this. But there you say himself the telescope perennial behold

us myself would run away from him and Holy Ghost and all that. There's the Judgment Day. Do you. Cousin. Did you know that there had been a fire here and that but for the whim of the wind Austin and Vinnie and Emily would have World been homeless. We will wait by the ticking of the bell lives. The bills taken a must for a fire to tell the firemen I sprang to the window on each side of that curtain saw that awful sun the moon was shining high at the time and the birds singing like trumpets. Then it came soft as a moccasin. Don't be afraid Emily it's only the Fourth of July. I did not tell her that I saw it for I thought if she thought it best to deceive it must be that it was she took hold of my

hand and led me into mother's room. Mother had not waked and Maggie was sitting by her. Then he left us a moment and I whispered to Maggie and I asked her what it was. Only Stebbins is by our own Emily but I knew that on the right and the left with the village I could hear buildings falling and oil exploding and people walking and talking gaily and cannons soft as velvet from parishes that did not know that we were burning up and so much lighter than day was it that I saw a caterpillar measure a leaf far down in the orchard. And then he kept saying bravely it's only the Fourth of July. It seem like a theater or a night in London. Well perhaps like chaos the innocent do falling as if it thought no evil and sweet frogs prattling in the pools as if there were no US at seven. People came to tell us that the fire was stopped stopped by throwing

sound houses in as one fills away. Mother never waked and we were all grateful. We knew she would never buy a needle and thread missed a cutlass store but if it were Pompei nobody could tell her the post office is in the old meeting house where you and I one went early to avoid the crowd and fell asleep with a bumble bee in the lot God of Alija. Then only the Fourth of July. I shall always remember. I think she will tell us so when we die. To keep us from being afraid. Footlights cannot improve the grave. Only immortality love for you both. Emilie. Some things that. I be the butt of the know

some things that stay there be brief. Eternity. No this just me. There are that resting can I expound the sky. It's how the live this. This is my life to the that never to me. The simple knew that nature told with tender Majesty. Her message is committed to hands. I cannot see for love of her sweet countryman judge tender

of me. Oh. Oh. Oh.

We. Need you yet impatient of no child. The feeblest of the way were dissed her. In Forest in the hill by travel. Restraining Rampton. Squire. Impetuous bird health. Conversation a summer afternoon. Her house her way. And when the sun goes down her

voice among the sight the timid prayer. Of the minute just cricket the most. When all the children are asleep she turns as long away as will suffice to light her lamps then bending from the sky with infinite affection and infinite care. Her golden thing on her lips will silence every way a bird came down the wall. He did not know I saw the bit an angle worm in halves and ate the fellow role. And then he drank a good deal from a convenient grouse and then hopped sidewise to the Wold to let a beetle pass. He

glanced with Rapid Eye is that herded all around and they look like frightened to be desired I thought. He stared. At his velvet. Head. Like one in danger. Cautious I offered him a crumb and he rode his feathers and rode him softer than Owen's divide the ocean to Florida Sea Org butterflies off banks of New one leap plash lists as they swim. The sky is in the clouds. What a travelling flake of snow across a barn rut debate another. Day. How someone treated here

nature like us is sometimes cold without you. Upon his saddle sprang a bird and crossed a thousand trees before a fence without a fare his fantasy did. And then he lifted up his throat and squandered such a note of the universe that over her. Is stricken by being black

with guilt. So a single buccaneer of bus ride abroad in ostentation and subsist south with Bumblebee. Hesitate. Drink and butterflies in their passage. Kashmir I softly resent it. Sloan's well. If anybody can the ecstasy defied half the transport half the trouble with which flour was humble men. Anybody find the fountain from which flood so contraflow. I will give him the day which upon the

hillside below. Too much pathos in their faces for a simple breast like mine butterfly is from San Domingo cruising round the purple line have a system of aesthetics far superior to mine. Nobody knows this little. A pilgrim. It might be. Did I not take it from the way to lift it up to the only it will miss it. Only a butterfly hastening from far journey on its breast to lie well only a bare. One only a Will side. Well yes. How easy for such is the to

die. A. Do you know the six 1851.

Dear Brother I wanted to write you Friday. The night of Jenny Lind but reaching home past midnight and my room some time later and countering several perils starting and on the way among which a Kicking Horse an inexperienced driver. A number of job stand the boats and a very terrible rain. All were they to have record. About halfway through our journey thunder was said to be heard and a suspicious cloud came travelling up the sky. What words express how Horrow when rain began to fall in drops sheets Cataracs. What fancy could conceive of victims and lynchings which we met on the way and how the stage and the morning captives drew up at Warner's hotel. And all of us alighted and were conducted in how the rain did not abate how we walked in silence to the old Deadwood church

and took our seats in the same hall Jenny came out like a child and sang and sang again. How bouquet you spell in showers and the roof was red with applause. How it thundered outside and inside with the thunder of God and of men judge you which was the loudest. How we all love Jenny Lind but not accustomed off to her manner of singing didn't fancy that so well as we did her. No doubt it was very fine but take some notes from her Echo and the bird sounds from the bird song and some of her curious trills. And I'd rather have a Yankee. Herself and not her music was what we seem to love. He has an air of exile into a mild blue eyes and just something sweet and touching in her native accent which charms her many friends. Give me my thatched cottage she sang grew so earnest she seemed

half lost in song and for the transient time I fancied she had found it and would be seen no mare. And then her foreign accent made her again a wanderer. We will talk about her sometime when you come. Floral there sat all the evening looking mad and silly and yet so much amused you would have died a laughing when the performers bowed he said Good evening. And when they retired. Very well that will do. It wasn't sarcasm Exactly. No it wasn't disdain it was infinitely funnier than either of those virtues. As if old Abraham had come to see the show and thought it was all very well. Well but a little excess of monkey A. She took $4000 for a ticket to Northampton. Aside from all expenses when you saw it in Boston I'm glad you took a seat opposite LORD MARE. If he had sat in your lap it'd

please me even better. It must seem grand to be a City office and packed sheriff's back and winked to the policeman. I'm sorry you got so tired. I would suggest respectfully a rose in every thought about our coming to Boston. We think we shall probably come. We want to see you friends yourself and I and Al's family we don't care a fig for the museum. The stillness or Jenny Lind. Father says Your letters are all together before Shakespeare and he will have them published to put in our library. Emily FOWLER As regards love from us all. I don't know what I say I write in such a hurry. Your affectionate sister Emilie. Like gray it sounded Tillich and then I knew it was wind. It worked to sweaters anyway and swept as dry as sand when it had pushed itself away to

some remotest plane coming as a posts was her that was indeed the rain. It filled the well as it pleased the poo. It warbled in the road it pulled the spigot from the hills and let the floods. It loosened acres lifted see the sights of centers then like a lot I rode away a part of column A. Today further than that no stop to play with the hay. Threaten a hat. He's a transient fellow verray rely on that if you leave a bird at the door. We know he's climbed.

But the FIR was. Declared. Were you ever there. If you bring a notice of clover and that is his business not ours then he's been with the wedding away the sweet poses of hay. His way of a day. If he flings sand and pebbles little boys hats and stubble with an occasional steeple and a horse get out of the way I say who'd be the fool to stay would you say were you to stay. These are the days when birds come back. There if you take a backward look. These are the days when the sky is soft the streets of blue and to go to misstate

o fraud that cannot cheat the bee almost to the ability induces my belief til ranks of seeds there witness and soft through the all to. Her is attended leave. O sacrament of summer day. Last communion in the hay use permit a child to Joy in thy sacred emblem to partake thy consecrated bread to take and thy in him why. The sun and fog contested the government of day the sun took out his yellow whip and drove the fall

away. I'll tell you how the sun a ribbon at a time the steeple swam in amethyst the

new likes their heroes untied their bonnets the bubbling began. Then I said softly to myself. That must have been the Sun. But how he said what I know not there see the purple star that little yellow boys and girls were climbing the hill when they reached the other side a dormant pushed gently up the evening by us and led the flock away. The Cricket sang and sat the sun. And workman finished one by one the day upon the low grass loaded with the dew. The twilight stood as strangers do with hat in hand polite

and new to stay as it were. We're. At peace. I became. A. The nearest dream we see

just the heaven we like to invite stoops to any day. They then. Left his light. He stared at the sky. Because I could not stop for death he Carnally stopped the carnage killed but just. And immortality. We slowly he knew no haste and I had put away my labor and my leisure for his civility. We passed the school. Where children strode at recess

in the ring. We passed the field gazing we passed the setting sun. Rather he passed us the quivering chill brought only gossamer Oh my God my tippet only two. We paused before the House. It seemed a swelling of the groan and the roof was scarcely visible. The CONUS in the ground. Since then tis centuries and yet it seems shorter than the day I first surmised the horses heads. Eternity. Dear cousin.

You have done more for me tis least that I can do to tell you a brave Fraser killed at Newbern Darling was his big shot away by a minibus. I had read of those. I didn't think that phrase they would carry one to Eden with him just as he fell in his soldier's cap with his sword at his side. Fraser rode through our midst classmates to the right of him and classmates to the left of him to guard his narrow face. He fell by the side of Professor clock is superior officer lives 10 minutes in a soldier's arms. I ask twice for water man not just my God and past Sanderson his classmate made a box of boards in the night put the brave boy in covered with a blanket drove six miles to reach the boat so poor Fraser cave. They tell me that Colonel claw cried like a

little child when he missed his pet and could hardly resume his post. They loved each other very much. Nobody here could look on Friesian not even his father. The doctors would not allow it. The bed on which she was enclosed in a large casket shot entirely and covered from head to foot with the sweetest flowers. He went to sleep from the village church. Crowds came to tell him goodnight choirs sang to him. Pastors told how brave he was. So your heart and the family bowed their heads as the reeds the wind shakes. So our poet in Fraser is done. But you must come next summer and we will mind ourselves of this young crusader to brave that he could fear to die. We will play used.

Maybe you can hear them. We will try to comfort his broken hearted. Who is the clergyman said gave him peculiar confidence. Alston is stunned completely. Let us love him better children it's the best that's left to do. Love from Emilie. Oh. I. Mean.

Oh.

This quiet dust was gentleman and ladies and lads and US was laughing and ability and song and frocks. And was this passive place. And she fulfilled it then ceased like the. DEAR COUSIN You might not remember me

dears I cannot recall myself. I thought I was strongly built but the stronger has undermined me. We were eating our supper the 15th of June and Austin came in. He had a dispatch in his hand and I saw by his face we were all lost. Now I didn't know how. He said the father was very sick. When he and Vinnie must go. The train had already gone while horses were dressing. News came. He was dead. Father does not live with us now. He lives in a new house though it was built in an hour it is better than this. He hasn't any garden because he moved. After gardens were made. So we take him the best flowers and if we only knew he knew perhaps we could stop crying. I cannot write any more deers though it is many nights my mind never comes

home. Thank you each for the love though I could not notice it almost the last that he heard was servant of God. Well done. Rest from DI love employed and learned. T.W. Higginson the last afternoon that my father lived. There was no premonition. I preferred to be with him and invented an absence from mother very being asleep. He seemed peculiarly pleased as I often a stayed with myself and remarked as the afternoon withdrew. He would like it not to end his pleasure almost embarrassed me and my brother coming I suggested they walk. Next morning I woke him for the train and saw him no more. His heart was pure and terrible and I think no other like it

exists. I am glad there is immortality. What would have tested it myself before and trusting him when I think of my father's lonely life and his lonely a death. There is this redress. Take ole away the only thing with Lawson it is left the immortality. Your scholar. As summer into autumn slips and yet we soon Asay the summer then the autumn lest we turn the sun away. And almost count it an affront to the presence to cause the seed of one however lovely

not the one that we have love. So we evaded the charge of years on one attempting Xai the circumvention of the shelf of life declivity. Good morning. Midnight. I'm coming home. Day got tired of me. How could I have him. Sunshine was a sweet place. I like to stay but ma. Didn't Want Me. So good night day. I can look can't I when the east is red the hills have a way then that puts the house to Brawn. You are not so fair. Midnight I chose day. But please take a little. He turned

away. We grow accustomed to the dark when light is put away as when a neighbor holds the lamp to witness her goodbye. A moment we are uncertain step for newness of the night. Then third our vision to the dark and to meet the road. Will there really be a morning. Is there such a thing as day. Could I see it from the mountains if I were as tall as they. Has it feet like water lilies. Has it feathers like a bird. Is it brought from famous countries of which I have never heard. It. Oh some scholar some say. Oh some

wise man from the skies is pleased to tell the little Pilgrim where the place called the morning lies. Oh. My dear.

Emily I am sending you will soon with your friend the Reverend Charles words with preached in his Philadelphia pulpit on April the 11th. Is it true as I've understood that he came to Amherst to see last year and I never really knew what happened when you would be visiting Dear Colin in Philadelphia in 1855. I assume of course that you heard him preach but what else did you meet him at any rate his sermons are highly applauded affectionately. You don't feel it. The Gospel COLE Oh what a Cole is this. The spirit and the bride Cole and he that here at Kohls the voices of all God's bright and blighted things take up the utterance the dear ones in your earthly homes mother and sister and brother and child whose names are written in the Lamb's Book of Life.

And the church below Christ's witness unto the world in all her ordinances enough winces cries come and the church above with the rustling of white robes and the sweeping of golden harps cries Come on come. And the angels of heaven Lo rank above rank the immortal principalities as they circle the eternal throne. They have caught up the sound and cry come. Come. And the trial you everlasting God the father the elder brother the Almighty comforter says Come. And behold the battlements of the fair city are thronged with a great cloud of witnesses and upon the ear of every fainting dying soul in this earthly wilderness breaks the glad call of the rejoicing you libellous. Come come. And the Spirit and the bride say Come and let him they hear it say Come and let Him that is athirst come. And whosoever will let him take the water level life freely.

I am ashamed. I thought I was right to drive to be a bride. So later dollars go nowhere to hide my doesn't face. No one to teach me that new grace nor introduce my so me to a drone. How terrible trinkets to make me beautiful that bricks of Kashmir never a gown of Dun Rayment instead of pumping my soul two way fingers to frame my round head. O as few ladies fall off. Fashions. And. Skill to hone my brow I can plead like a whip but

with proof like a perm. Then for character fashion my spirit couldn't quite quick like a little gray like a light. Bring me my best pride no more ashamed no more to hide Meek Let it be too proud for a prize that just this day. While the cold

wind does not require the ground she cannot keep because you know. Do not you know not enough the wisdom of the lightning never because he knows it cannot speak and Ransom's not prefer the sun because he sun and ah you see. I. My dear Miss Dickinson. I am distressed beyond measure at your note arrived this moment. I can only imagine the affliction which is before all in or is now before you

believe me but it may you have all my sympathy and my constant earnest prayers. I am very very anxious to learn more definitely of your trial and though I have no right to intrude upon your sorrow yet I beg you to write to me though it be about a word that affectionately you know. C. W.. M.. God made me so Master. I didn't be myself. I don't know how it was done. He built a heart in me. By and by it outgrew me and like a little mother with a big child I got tired holding him. I heard of a thing call redemption which rested men and women. You remember I asked you for it. You gave me something else. I forgot the redemption and was tired no

more. I am older tonight master but the love is still the same. So while the moon and the crescent if it had been God's will that I might breathe where you breathed and find the place myself at night if I can never forget that I am not with you and that sorrow and frost are nearer than I. If I wish with the might I cannot repress that mine where the Queen's place the love of the Plantagenet is my only apology to come nearer than press betrays and nearer than the new coat is forbidden me. You say I do not tell you all confessed and denied not. This is the US don't talk Etna don't one of them said a syllable a thousand years ago and promptly hurt it and hid for ever. I don't know what you can do for it. Thank you Master. I used to think when I died I could see you. I waited a long time

and I can wait more weight to my Hazel hair is dappled and you carry the cane. Then I can look at my watch and if the day is too far to collide and we can take the chances of heaven. What would you do with me if I came in white. I want to see you more than all I wish for in this world and the wish altered a little will be my only one for the sky. Could you come to New England this summer. Would you come to our midst. Would you like to come. Muster. While Tonight Tonight us tonight should be a few wins but done

with the compass out. See you tonight in the. Bye. You still can sing. One that. Strikes true within. And my SO is trying to parallel still die. It was my one day. Let it be remembered.

I was of the split the long and you'll find the music but. The scantily saved. Loosed the flood. You shall find it Peyton. Gosh gosh. Just for you. Sky experiment. Skeptic Thomas Not that you are true. He forgot and I remembered it was an every day affair.

Long ago. Was Christ in Peter then at the temple fire. That worked with him. Quoth the maid. No said Peter. It wasn't me. Jesus merely looked at Peter. What I do. How we will forget him. You will die tonight you may forget the world. I will forget the light when you have done. Pray tell me that I know you straight. Begin haste lest while your lie again. I remember him. I could hear his name without tremendous gain.

That style sensation and I got so I could act where he and I and I got so I could stare at the box without my breath as St.. To die without the dying and live with out the life that is the hardest to prove pounded to believe.

I reason is sure. And I anguish absolute and many. But what of that. I reasoned we could die the best vitality cannot excel decay. But what of that. I reasoned that in Heaven somehow it will be even some equation given. But what of that. Of care side Pray when did God care. He cared as much as only Arabs had stamped her foot and cried. Give me my reason

life. I had not had to but for yourself the better charity to leave me in the atoms to Merion no end game. Then there's two misery in my life closed twice before its close it yet remains to see if immortality unveil a third event to me. So much so hopeless to conceive as these that twice before. Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of. J. D the griefs of which you speak well unknown to me though I knew

him a man of sorrow once when he seemed almost overpowered by a spasm of gloom I said. You are troubled. Shivering as he spoke. My life is full of dark secrets he said. He never spoke of himself and Croce meant I know would have slain him. You never spoke of his home but his child a willy whom forgive me the arrogance he told me was like me though I not knowing where they was benighted still. I am glad you loved him. He was at dusk born of troubled waters astray in any crest below heaven might give him peace. It could not give him grand but that he carried with himself. I do not yet fathom that he has died and hope I may not till he assists me in

another world Hannah will be its name. Dickens. Don't put up my thread and I'll begin to sew when the birds begin to whistle. That has stitches so leave my needle in the furrow where I put it down. I can make the zigzag stitches straight when I am strong. Till then dreaming I am sewing fetch the sea my mist closer. So I add my sleep. Still surmise I did. Light steps to its lofty place loosed among herself a hat from her Lustral

face. Well the evenings softly lit as an astral whole. Father to heaven. You are home. I see the way to my advantage. But to try and shut the door into my house. No more to do till his best step approaching we journey to the day and tell each other how to keep the dog away. I am

the law. And you'll find the music a program of poetry and letters of Emily Dickinson with music by Robert Schumann performed on August 20 8th 971 at the Amherst Regional High School Band Mildred Dunham accompanied on the piano. Pam is George Henry and from my record in fact Christoph Eschenbach the program was presented by Mr Downer and he's been in memory of Frank Prentice and the material is used by courtesy of the Harvard University Press and the trustees of Amherst College. The program was presented on the occasion of the first day of issue ceremonies of the United States Postal Service is Emily Dickinson.

Stan Lee thank you. Split the lark and you'll find the music was produced for radio by WFC are the five college radio station in Amherst Massachusetts.