Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

Pompless no life can pass away;
    The lowliest career
To the same pageant wends its way
    As that exalted here.
How cordial is the mystery!
    The hospitable pall
A "this way" beckons spaciously, --
    A miracle for all!

1. Childish Griefs
2. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
3. Power
4. Is Bliss, Then, Such Abyss
5. Thanksgiving Day

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