Poem 301

by

Emily Dickinson


I reason, Earth is short--

And Anguish--absolute--

And many hurt,

But, what of that?


I reason, we could die--

The best Vitality

Cannot excel Decay,

But, what of that?


I reason, that in Heaven--

Somehow, it will be even--

Some new Equation, given--

But, what of that?


(1862)



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