Emily Dickinson (10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)
Poems by Emily Dickinson : 337 / 1084
I Died For Beauty
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 - the two are one;
We brethren 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.
Emily Dickinson
Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003
Read poems about / on: truth, beauty, night
Poems by Emily Dickinson : 337 / 1084
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This poem reminds me of 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty, -that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' -by John Keats.
Great minds think alike.
Beauty and death -- eternal literary subject!