It was not Death, for I stood up

Emily Dickinson

1830 to 1886

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It was not Death, for I stood up - Track 1

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It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down —
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos — crawl —
Nor Fire — for just my marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool —

And yet, it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine —

As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And ’twas like Midnight, some —

When everything that ticked — has stopped —
And space stares — all around —
Or Grisly frosts — first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground —

But most, like Chaos — Stopless — cool —
Without a Chance, or spar —
Or even a Report of Land —
To justify — Despair.

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