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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—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- I Know Lives, I Could Miss
- The Lady Feeds Her Little Bird
- It's Such A Little Thing To Weep
- What Shall I Do When The Summer Troubles
- Dying At My Music