Emily Dickinson

My Portion Is Defeat today

poem 639

My Portion is Defeat today A paler luck than Victory Less Paeans fewer Bells The Drums don’t follow Me with tunes Defeat a somewhat slower means More Arduous than Balls ‘Tis populous with Bone and stain And Men too straight to stoop again , And Piles of solid Moan And Chips of Blank in Boyish Eyes And scraps of Prayer And Death’s surprise, Stamped visible in Stone There’s somewhat prouder, over there The Trumpets tell it to the Air How different Victory To Him who has it and the One Who to have had it, would have been Contender to die

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