Letter from Dickinson to Higginson     Cambridge, early June 1864     Dear friend,     Are you in danger - I did not know that you were hurt. Will you tell me more? Mr Hawthorne died.  I was ill since September, and since April, in Boston, for a Physician's care - He does not let me go, yet I work in my Prison, and make Guests for myself - Carlo did not come, because that he would die, in Jail, and the Mountains, I could not hold now, so i brought but the Gods - I wish to see you more than before I failed - Will you tell me your health? I am surprised and anxious, since receiving your note -          The only News I know          Is Bulletins all day          From Immortality. Can you render my Pencil? The Physician has taken away my Pen. I enclose the address from a letter, lest my figures fail - Knowledge of your recovery - would excel my own - E- Dickinson Poems of Emily Dickinson (from Thomas Johnson's The Poems of Emily Dickinson) 613   They shut me up in Prose -- As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet -- Because they liked me "still" -- Still!  Could themself have peeped -- And seen my Brain -- go round -- They might as wise have lodged a Bird For Treason -- in the Pound -- Himself has but to will And easy as a Star Abolish his Captivity -- And laugh -- No more have I -- [NOTE: I WILL ADD CRITICAL COMMENTARIES ON THIS POEM TO ACCOMPANY THE ACTIVITIES SECTION] 652 A prison gets to be friend - Between its Ponderous face And Ours - A kinsmanship express - And in its narrow Eyes - We come to look with gratitude For the appointed Beam It deals us - stated as our food - And hungered for - the same - We learn to know the Planks - That answer to Our feet - So miserable a sound - at first - Nor ever now - so sweet - As plashing in the Pools - When Mercury was a Boy - But a Demurer Circuit - A Geometric Joy - The Posture of the Key The interrupt the Day To Our Endeavor - Not so real The Cheek of Liberty - As this Phantasm Steel - Whose features - Day and Night - Are present to us - as Our Own And as escapeless - quite - The narrow Round - the Stint - The slow exchange of Hope - For something passiver - Content Too steep for looking up - The Liberty we knew Avoided - like a Dream - Too wide for any Night but heaven - If That - indeed - redeem - (324-325) 720 No Prisoner be - Where Liberty - Himself - abide with Thee - (353) 759 He fought like those Who've nought to lose - Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use - Invited Death - with bold attempt - But Death was Coy of Him As Other Men, were Coy of Death - To Him - to live - was Doom - His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes When Gusts reverse the Snow - But He - was left alive Because Of Greediness to die - (372) 831 Dying!  To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend - Than thine old Arrow is a Shot Delivered straighter to the Heart The leaving Love behind. Not for itself, the dust is shy, But, enemy, Beloved be Thy Batteries divorce. Fight sternly in a Dying eye Two Armies, Love and Certainty And Love and the Reverse. (403) 1169 Lest they should come - is all my fear When sweet incarcerated here... [MISSING TEXT?]