Emily Dickinson

The Whole Of It Came Not At Once

poem 762

The Whole of it came not at once ‘Twas Murder by degrees A Thrust and then for Life a chance The Bliss to cauterize The Cat reprieves the Mouse She eases from her teeth Just long enough for Hope to tease Then mashes it to death ‘Tis Life’s award to die Contenteder if once Than dying half then rallying For consciouser Eclipse

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