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1803–1882

THE PAST

Ralph Waldo Emerson

The debt is paid, The verdict said, The Furies laid, The plague is stayed.

All fortunes made; Turn the key and bolt the door, Sweet is death forevermore. Nor haughty hope, nor swart chagrin,

Nor murdering hate, can enter in. All is now secure and fast; Not the gods can shake the Past; Flies-to the adamantine door

Bolted down forevermore. None can reënter there,— No thief so politic, No Satan with a royal trick

Steal in by window, chink, or hole, To bind or unbind, add what lacked, Insert a leaf, or forge a name, New-face or finish what is packed,

Alter or mend eternal Fact.

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THE PAST · Ralph Waldo Emerson · Poetry Cove