Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

My Portion Is Defeat—today - Poem by Emily Dickinson

639

My Portion is Defeat—today—
A paler luck than Victory—
Less Paeans—fewer Bells—
The Drums don't follow Me—with tunes—
Defeat—a somewhat slower—means—
More Arduous than Balls—

'Tis populous with Bone and stain—
And Men too straight to stoop again—,
And Piles of solid Moan—
And Chips of Blank—in Boyish Eyes—
And scraps of Prayer—
And Death's surprise,
Stamped visible—in Stone—

There's somewhat prouder, over there—
The Trumpets tell it to the Air—
How different Victory
To Him who has it—and the One
Who to have had it, would have been
Contender—to die—


Comments about My Portion Is Defeat—today by Emily Dickinson

  • Rookie - 178 Points Brian Jani (4/29/2014 2:58:00 AM)

    This is a great poem (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: today, death



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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