(1 Sep 2012 – The Summer is
just a memory -- a leaf fallen upon cooler days. The harvest is "in" -- its bounty
to preserve for feast, else fast. Days
seen passing so quickly with the shorter sunlight hours. Time to savor the moment -- before it is Past. What answer to the question asked by Tomorrow,
"How was your Yesterday?"
Below is a letter written by
my maternal Cousin Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, when she was only age 15. In the letter, she weighs the balance of
Time, God, worthy pursuits, and Nature's seasons. Thoughts worthy to ponder.
Dorothy Hazel Tarr)
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Letter to: To the same - Mrs. A. P. Strong
Dated: 8
Sep 1846 Boston, MassachusettsFrom: Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (age 15)
(birth December 10, 1830 – death May 15, 1886)
My Dear Friend A., ...
Does it seem as though September had
come? How swiftly summer has fled, and
what report has it borne to heaven of misspent time and wasted hours? Eternity only will answer. The ceaseless flight of the seasons is to me
a very solemn thought; and yet why do we not strive to make a better
improvement of them?
With how much emphasis the poet has said, "We take no note of time but from its loss. 'Twere wise in man to give it then a tongue. Pay no moment but in just purchase of its worth, and what its worth ask death-beds. They can tell. Part with it as with life reluctantly." Then we have higher authority than that of man for the improvement of our time. For God has said, "Work while the days last, for the night is coming in the which no man can work."
With how much emphasis the poet has said, "We take no note of time but from its loss. 'Twere wise in man to give it then a tongue. Pay no moment but in just purchase of its worth, and what its worth ask death-beds. They can tell. Part with it as with life reluctantly." Then we have higher authority than that of man for the improvement of our time. For God has said, "Work while the days last, for the night is coming in the which no man can work."
Let us strive together to part with
time more reluctantly, to watch the pinions of fleeting moment until they are
dim in the distance, and the new-coming moment claims our attention. I have perfect confidence in God and His
promises, and yet I know not why I feel that the world holds a predominant
place in my affections...
Yours affectionate friend,
Emily E. D.
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SOURCE LINK (a)
By Emily Dickinson, Martha Dickinson
BianchiPage 120 on GOOGLE ebooks
SOURCE LINK (b)
Letters of Emily DickinsonBy Emily Dickinson
PAGE 20 on GOOGLE ebooks
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