REMORSE - Remorse is memory awake

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Remorse is memory awake,
Her companies astir, --
A presence of departed acts
At window and at door.

It's past set down before the soul,
And lighted with a match,
Perusal to facilitate
Of its condensed despatch.

Remorse is cureless, -- the disease
Not even God can heal;
For 't is his institution, --
The complement of hell.

More poems by Emily Dickinson

I took my power in my hand. / And went against the world;

I had a guinea golden; / I lost it in the sand,

One dignity delays for all, / One mitred afternoon.

Departed to the judgment, / A mighty afternoon;