Emily Dickinson

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

The Manner Of Its Death - Poem by Emily Dickinson

468

The Manner of its Death
When Certain it must die—
'Tis deemed a privilege to choose—
'Twas Major Andre's Way—

When Choice of Life—is past—
There yet remains a Love
Its little Fate to stipulate—

How small in those who live—

The Miracle to tease
With Bable of the styles—
How "they are Dying mostly—now"—
And Customs at "St. James"!


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Read poems about / on: fate, death, life



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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