Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
Emily DickinsonRead
A soft Sea washed around the House A Sea of Summer Air And rose and fell the magic Planks That sailed without a care — For Captain was the Butterfly For Helmsman was the Bee And an entire universe For the delighted crew.
Interpretation
The quote reflects a whimsical and carefree perspective on nature, where small creatures play significant roles in a magical, summer setting.
Emily Dickinson’s quote paints a vivid picture of a world where nature is alive with magical possibilities. It illustrates a fantastical scene where a butterfly and a bee assume the roles of captain and helmsman, guiding the 'ship' of summer air through a vast universe. This portrayal highlights the innocence and beauty found in nature, capturing a childlike wonder at the simplicity and joy of the summer experience.
In practice
This quote could be used in a speech about the beauty of nature at a summer gathering.
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.
I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun!
My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word
This is the Hour of Lead- Remembered, if outlived, As freezing persons, recollect the Snow- First-Chill-then Stupor- then the letting go---
Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned.
To a dull mind all of nature is leaden. To the illumined mind the whole world burns and sparkles with light.
I saw the spiders marching through the air, Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day In latter August when the hay Came creaking to the barn. But where The wind is westerly, Where gnarled November makes the spiders fly Into the apparitions of the sky, They purpose nothing but their ease and die Urgently beating east to sunrise and the sea.
The birth and death of leaves is part of that greater cycle that moves among the stars.
It is a real wilderness, and those who go there should not feel too safe.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Wilderness and motors are incompatible and the former can best be experienced, understood and enjoyed when the machines are left behind where they belong -- on the superhighways and in the parking lots, on the reservoirs and in the marinas.
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