Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within— Could He—know—they sought Him— Could They—know—He breathed— Horrid Sand Partition— Neither—could be heard— Never slacked the Diggers— But when Spades had done— Oh, Reward of Anguish, It was dying—Then— Many Things—are fruitless— 'Tis a Baffling Earth— But there is no Gratitude Like the Grace—of Death—
Added: 2 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:50 PM | Viewed: 8910 times
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