Emily Dickinson

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

To Die—takes Just A Little While - Poem by Emily Dickinson

To die—takes just a little while—
They say it doesn't hurt—
It's only fainter—by degrees—
And then—it's out of sight—

A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
A Crape upon the Hat—
And then the pretty sunshine comes—
And helps us to forget—

The absent—mystic—creature—
That but for love of us—
Had gone to sleep—that soundest time—
Without the weariness—


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Read poems about / on: sunshine, sleep, time, love



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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