Death poems
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On this long storm the Rainbow rose
© Emily Dickinson
On this long storm the Rainbow rose --
On this late Morn -- the Sun --
The clouds -- like listless Elephants --
Horizons -- straggled down --
Of Death I try to think like this --
© Emily Dickinson
Of Death I try to think like this --
The Well in which they lay us
Is but the Likeness of the Brook
That menaced not to slay us,
None who saw it ever told it
© Emily Dickinson
None who saw it ever told it
'Tis as hid as Death
Had for that specific treasure
A departing breath --
My Portion is Defeat -- today --
© Emily Dickinson
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 --
Love -- is that later Thing than Death --
© Emily Dickinson
Love -- is that later Thing than Death --
More previous -- than Life --
Confirms it at its entrance -- And
Usurps it -- of itself --
Life, and Death, and Giants --
© Emily Dickinson
Life, and Death, and Giants --
Such as These -- are still --
Minor -- Apparatus -- Hopper of the Mill --
Beetle at the Candle --
Or a Fife's Fame --
Maintain -- by Accident that they proclaim --
Life -- is what we make of it --
© Emily Dickinson
Life -- is what we make of it --
Death -- we do not know --
Christ's acquaintance with Him
Justify Him -- though --
Let down the Bars, Oh Death --
© Emily Dickinson
Let down the Bars, Oh Death --
The tired Flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat
Whose wandering is done --
Lay this Laurel on the One
© Emily Dickinson
Lay this Laurel on the One
Too intrinsic for Renown --
Laurel -- veil your deathless tree --
Him you chasten, that is He!
It came at last but prompter Death
© Emily Dickinson
It came at last but prompter Death
Had occupied the House --
His pallid Furniture arranged
And his metallic Peace --
It always felt to me -- a wrong
© Emily Dickinson
It always felt to me -- a wrong
To that Old Moses -- done --
To let him see -- the Canaan --
Without the entering --
In falling Timbers buried --
© Emily Dickinson
In falling Timbers buried --
There breathed a Man --
Outside -- the spades -- were plying --
The Lungs -- within --
If I may have it, when it's dead,
© Emily Dickinson
If I may have it, when it's dead,
I'll be contented -- so --
If just as soon as Breath is out
It shall belong to me --
I've dropped my Brain -- My Soul is numb --
© Emily Dickinson
I've dropped my Brain -- My Soul is numb --
The Veins that used to run
Stop palsied -- 'tis Paralysis
Done perfecter on stone
I watched the Moon around the House
© Emily Dickinson
I watched the Moon around the House
Until upon a Pane --
She stopped -- a Traveller's privilege -- for Rest --
And there upon
I tried to think a lonelier Thing
© Emily Dickinson
I tried to think a lonelier Thing
Than any I had seen --
Some Polar Expiation -- An Omen in the Bone
Of Death's tremendous nearness --
I read my sentence -- steadily
© Emily Dickinson
I read my sentence -- steadily --
Reviewed it with my eyes,
To see that I made no mistake
In its extremest clause --
I meant to find Her when I came --
© Emily Dickinson
I meant to find Her when I came --
Death -- had the same design --
But the Success -- was His -- it seems --
And the Surrender -- Mine --
I live with Him -- I see His face
© Emily Dickinson
I live with Him -- I see His face --
I go no more away
For Visitor -- or Sundown --
Death's single privacy
I did not reach Thee
© Emily Dickinson
I did not reach Thee
But my feet slip nearer every day
Three Rivers and a Hill to cross
One Desert and a Sea
I shall not count the journey one
When I am telling thee.
