Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone— As far from time—as History— As near yourself—Today— As Children, to the Rainbow's scarf— Or Sunset's Yellow play To eyelids in the Sepulchre— How dumb the Dancer lies— While Color's Revelations break— And blaze—the Butterflies!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:24 PM | Viewed: 8237 times
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