Poems by Emily Dickinson: The Funeral
Updated May 6, 2020 |
Infoplease Staff
The Funeral
The Funeral
That short, potential stir
That each can make but once,
That bustle so illustrious
'T is almost consequence,
That each can make but once,
That bustle so illustrious
'T is almost consequence,
Is the eclat of death.
Oh, thou unknown renown
That not a beggar would accept,
Had he the power to spurn!
Oh, thou unknown renown
That not a beggar would accept,
Had he the power to spurn!
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