Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

I read my sentence steadily,
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause, --

The date, and manner of the shame;
And then the pious form
That "God have mercy" on the soul
The jury voted him.

I made my soul familiar
With her extremity,
That at the last it should not be
A novel agony,

But she and Death, acquainted,
Meet tranquilly as friends,
Salute and pass without a hint --
And there the matter ends.

1. There Is a Shame of Nobleness
2. Till the End
3. The Battle-Field
4. Some, Too Fragile for Winter Winds
5. As by the Dead We Love to Sit

Print

1593 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version