We Shall Forget Him, My Heart

Had you mentioned Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) during her lifetime, you would have found but few who had heard her name or read her poetry. Mention her today, and there springs to mind at once the most famous poetess of America in the past century.

Her poetry is famed for its tenderness, its sweetness, and its brevity. Most of her poems are short, each turning upon one small idea, which she pictures within a halo of similes drawn from nature, the seen and the unseen.

We shall forget him, my heart!
We shall forget him tonight — and I shall forget him!
We shall forget the warmth he gave,
and I shall forget the light.
When you have forgotten him, tell me,
that I may put out his memory.
Make haste — for if you linger,
I fear that I shall remember him!

If I can keep one single heart from stumbling,
I shall not have lived in vain!
And if I can lift from one single man his cares,
or ease one single pain,
or help one weak bird
to reach its nest again,
I shall not have lived in vain!