Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room —

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied —
"And I — for Truth—Themself are One —
We Bretheren, are", He said —

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night —
We talked between the Rooms —
Until the Moss had reached our lips —
And covered up — our names —

1. Our Journey Had Advanced
2. We Learned the Whole of Love
3. Doom is the House without the Door
4. I Send Two Sunsets
5. Should You but Fail at — Sea

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