As far from pity, as complaint —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
As far from pity, as complaint —
As cool to speech — as stone —
As numb to Revelation
As if my Trade were Bone —
As far from time — as History —
As near yourself — Today —
As Children, to the Rainbow's scarf —
Or Sunset's Yellow play
To eyelids in the Sepulchre —
How dumb the Dancer lies —
While Color's Revelations break —
And blaze — the Butterflies!
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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