I cautious, scanned my little life —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
I cautious, scanned my little life —
I winnowed what would fade
From what would last till Heads like mine
Should be a-dreaming laid.
I put the latter in a Barn —
The former, blew away.
I went one winter morning
And lo - my priceless Hay
Was not upon the "Scaffold" —
Was not upon the "Beam" —
And from a thriving Farmer —
A Cynic, I became.
Whether a Thief did it —
Whether it was the wind —
Whether Deity's guiltless —
My business is, to find!
So I begin to ransack!
How is it Hearts, with Thee?
Art thou within the little Barn
Love provided Thee?
Source: Wikisource
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Because I could not stop for Death—
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There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
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