 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
134
[XXIII. I reason, earth is short]
I reason, earth is short,
And anguish absolute,
And many hurt;
But what of that?
And anguish absolute,
And many hurt;
But what of that?
I reason, we could die:
The best vitality
Cannot excel decay;
But what of that?
The best vitality
Cannot excel decay;
But what of that?
I reason that in heaven
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new equation given;
But what of that?
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new equation given;
But what of that?
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |