Wesleyan University Press

Bye and bye the sun came out – just in time to bid us goodnight, and as I told you sometime, the moon is shining now.

She looks like a fairy tonight, sailing around the sky in a little silver gondola with stars for gondoliers. I asked her to let me ride a little while ago – and told her I would get out when she got as far as Baltimore, but she only smiled to herself and went sailing on.

and you and I would try to make a little destiny to have for our own.

dear Susie, who please ourselves with the fancy that we are the only poets – and every one else is prose,

we are the only poets – and every one else is prose,

– I should be constrained to write – for what shall separate us from any whom we love

Oh Susie, time would fail me to enumerate my appearance, yet I love you just as dearly as if I was e’er so fine,

Oh my darling one, how long you wander from me, how weary I grow of waiting and looking, and calling for you; sometimes I shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so,

Only want to write me, only sometimes sigh that you are far from me, and that will do, Susie!

In 1915, Susan’s daughter Martha Dickinson Bianchi described her Aunt Emily in the Atlantic Monthly, saying: “Her devotion to those she loved was that of a knight for his lady.”