Death poems

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Me prove it now -- Whoever doubt

© Emily Dickinson

Me prove it now -- Whoever doubt
Me stop to prove it -- now --
Make haste -- the Scruple! Death be scant
For Opportunity --

If I should cease to bring a Rose

© Emily Dickinson

If I should cease to bring a Rose
Upon a festal day,
'Twill be because beyond the Rose
I have been called away --

If I could bribe them by a Rose

© Emily Dickinson

If I could bribe them by a Rose
I'd bring them every flower that grows
From Amherst to Cashmere!
I would not stop for night, or storm --
Or frost, or death, or anyone --
My business were so dear!

I know that He exists.

© Emily Dickinson

I know that He exists.
Somewhere -- in Silence --
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.

I keep my pledge.

© Emily Dickinson

I keep my pledge.
I was not called --
Death did not notice me.
I bring my Rose.

I have no Life but this --

© Emily Dickinson

I have no Life but this --
To lead it here --
Nor any Death -- but lest
Dispelled from there --

Dust is the only Secret

© Emily Dickinson

Dust is the only Secret --
Death, the only One
You cannot find out all about
In his "native town."

Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?

© Emily Dickinson

Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?
Not Death -- for who is He?
The Porter of my Father's Lodge
As much abasheth me!

'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!

© Emily Dickinson

'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so --
This side the Victory!

The feet of people walking home

© Emily Dickinson

The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go --
The Crocus -- til she rises
The Vassal of the snow --

So give me back to Death --

© Emily Dickinson

So give me back to Death --
The Death I never feared
Except that it deprived of thee --
And now, by Life deprived,

Sang from the Heart, Sire,

© Emily Dickinson

Sang from the Heart, Sire,
Dipped my Beak in it,
If the Tune drip too much
Have a tint too Red

Love -- is anterior to Life --

© Emily Dickinson

Love -- is anterior to Life --
Posterior -- to Death --
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth --

I like a look of Agony,

© Emily Dickinson

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --

Dying! Dying in the night!

Dying! Dying in the night!
Won't somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?

All but Death, can be Adjusted --

All but Death, can be Adjusted --
Dynasties repaired --
Systems -- settled in their Sockets --
Citadels -- dissolved --

Behind Me -- dips Eternity --

Behind Me -- dips Eternity --
Before Me -- Immortality --
Myself -- the Term between --
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin --

A Wounded Deer -- leaps highest

A Wounded Deer -- leaps highest --
I've heard the Hunter tell --
'Tis but the Ecstasy of death --
And then the Brake is still!

Death is a Dialogue between

Death is a Dialogue between
The Spirit and the Dust.
"Dissolve" says Death -- The Spirit "Sir
I have another Trust" --

I measure every Grief I meet

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes --
I wonder if It weighs like Mine --
Or has an Easier size.