Part One: Life
SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.
-Emily Dickinson
I needed a short poem this week because I got a little behind on Lucasta. I picked this because I already sort of know it. And I like the poem. I love Emily Dickinson. I wouldn't mind memorizing everything she ever wrote.
I also picked the poem because there's a great story to go with it. My senior year of high school a boy I knew wrote this in my year book, drew a rose next to it and never spoke to me again. He was painfully shy. Definitely the best year book inscription EVER. Ahhh, high school, such a tragic time...
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