735
Upon Concluded Lives
There's nothing cooler falls—
Than Life's sweet Calculations—
The mixing Bells and Palls—
Make Lacerating Tune—
To Ears the Dying Side—
'Tis Coronal—and Funeral—
Saluting—in the Road—
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- How Fortunate The Grave
- To Make One's Toilette&Mdash;After Death
- I Tried To Think A Lonelier Thing
- 'Twould Ease—a Butterfly
- Pain Has An Element Of Blank;