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)
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Based on Topics: Joy & Excitement Poems, Pain Poems, Snow Poems, Boredom Poems, Mechanics PoemsBased on Keywords: feeling, centuries, questions, remembered, stiff, wooden, letting, recollect, nerves, persons, freezing