Bereaved of all, I went abroad,
No less bereaved to be
Upon a new peninsula, —
The grave preceded me,
Obtained my lodgings ere myself,
And when I sought my bed,
The grave it was, reposed upon
The pillow for my head.
I waked, to find it first awake,
I rose, — it followed me;
I tried to drop it in the crowd,
To lose it in the sea,
In cups of artificial drowse
To sleep its shape away, —
The grave was finished, but the spade
Remained in memory.
I am busy working to bring Emily Dickinson's "Trying to Forget" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Emily Dickinson's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Trying to Forget" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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