But -- if He ask where you are hid
Until tomorrow -- Happy letter!
(The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson)
More Quotes from Emily Dickinson:
The last of Summer is Delight --Deterred by Retrospect.
Emily Dickinson
Save by feet unnumbered
Pausing at the place.
Emily Dickinson
Tomorrow, night will come again --
Perhaps, weary and sore --
Ah Bugle!
Emily Dickinson
Inebriate of Air am I And Debauchee of Dew Reeling through endless summer days From inns of Molten Blue.
Emily Dickinson
Insulting is the sun
To him whose mortal light
Beguiled of immortality
Bequeaths him to the night.
Emily Dickinson
I would not stop for night, or storm --
Or frost, or death, or anyone --
My business were so dear!
Emily Dickinson
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