Emily Dickinson Poem

‘Tis Anguish grander than Delight

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‘Tis Anguish grander than Delight

‘Tis Resurrection Pain—

The meeting Bands of smitten Face

We questioned to, again.

 

‘Tis Transport wild as thrills the Graves

When Cerements let go

And Creatures clad in Miracle

Go up by Two and Two.

'Tis customary as we part
"She rose to his requirement, dropped"

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