Emily Dickinson Poem

Death is the supple Suitor

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Death is the supple Suitor
That wins at last –
It is a stealthy Wooing
Conducted first
By pallid innuendoes
And dim approach
But brave at last with Bugles
And a bisected Coach
It bears away in triumph
To Troth unknown
And Kindred as responsive
As Porcelain –

Death warrants are supposed to be
Death is like the insect

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