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    Emily Dickinson


    To die--takes just a little while--

    They say it doesn't hurt--

    It's only fainter--by degrees--

    And then--it's out of sight--

    A darker Ribbon--for a Day--

    A Crape upon the Hat--

    And then the pretty sunshine comes--

    And helps us to forget--

    The absent--mystic--creature--

    That but for love of us--

    Had gone to sleep--that soundest time--

    Without the weariness--


    This poem is one of many published by the EServer, a nonprofit collective.