Letter 353 (about October 1870) T. W. Higginson Emily Dickinson

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        The Riddle that we guess
        We speedily despise -
        Not anything is stale so long
        As Yesterday's Surprise.

The Risks of Immortality are perhaps its' charm - A secure Delight suffers in enchantment -

The larger Haunted House it seems, of maturer Childhood - distant, an alarm - entered intimate at last as a neighbor's Cottage -

        The Spirit said unto the Dust
        Old Friend, thou knewest me
        And Time went out to tell the news
        Unto Eternity -

Those of that renown personally precious, harrow like a Sunset, proved but not obtained -

Tennyson knew this, "Ah Christ - if it be possible" and even in Our Lord's ["] that they be with me where I am," I taste interrogation.

        Experiment escorts us last -
        His pungent company
        Will not allow an Axiom
        An Opportunity -

    You speak of "tameless tastes" - A Beggar came last week - I gave him Food and Fire and as he went, "Where do you go,"

"In all the directions" -