Poem choices

I like a look of Agony

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true-
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor stimulate, a Throe-

They Eyes glaze once-and that is Death-
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.

-Emily Dickinson (#241)

I can wade Grief

I can wade Grief-
Whole pools of it-
I'm used to that-
But the least push of Joy
Breaks up my feet-
And I tip-drunken-
Let no Pebble-smile-
'Twas the New Liquor-
That was all!

Power is only Pain-
Stranded thro' Discipline,
Till Weights-will hang-
Give Balm-to Giants-
And they'll wilt, like Men-
Give Himmaleh-
They'll Carry- Him!

-Emily Dickinson (#252)

After great pain, a formal feeling comes-

After great pain, a formal feeling comes-
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs-
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round-
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought-
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone-

This is the Hour of Lead-
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow-
First-Chill-then Stupor-then the letting go-

-Emily Dickinson (#341)