Tis Not That Dieing Hurts Us So-

Longing, It May Be, Is The Gift No Other Gift Supplies.

Anger As Soon As Fed Is Dead- 'tis Starving Makes It Fat.

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar.

Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant-- Success In Circuit Lies Too Bright For Our Infirm Delight The Truth's Superb Surprise As Lightning To The Children Eased With Explanation Kind The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every Man Be Blind--

... And Then I Heard Them Lift A Box, And Creak Across My Soul With Those Same Boots Of Lead, Again, Then Space Began To Toll.