Emily Dickinson

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

Robbed By Death—but That Was Easy - Poem by Emily Dickinson

971

Robbed by Death—but that was easy—
To the failing Eye
I could hold the latest Glowing—
Robbed by Liberty

For Her Jugular Defences—
This, too, I endured—
Hint of Glory—it afforded—
For the Brave Beloved—

Fraud of Distance—Fraud of Danger,
Fraud of Death—to bear—
It is Bounty—to Suspense's
Vague Calamity—

Stalking our entire Possession
On a Hair's result—
Then—seesawing—coolly—on it—
Trying if it split—


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Read poems about / on: hair, death



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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