To disappear enhances —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
To disappear enhances —
The Man that runs away
Is tinctured for an instant
With Immortality
But yesterday a Vagrant —
Today in Memory lain
With superstitious value
We tamper with "Again"
But "Never" far as Honor
Withdraws the Worthless thing
And impotent to cherish
We hasten to adorn —
Of Death the sternest function
That just as we discern
The Excellence defies us —
Securest gathered then
The Fruit perverse to plucking,
But leaning to the Sight
With the ecstatic limit
Of unobtained Delight —
Source: Wikisource
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Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves— …
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There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
Then covers the Abyss with Trance — …
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A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil …
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There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat …
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