If anybody's friend be dead,
It 's sharpest of the theme
The thinking how they walked alive,
At such and such a time.
Their costume, of a Sunday,
Some manner of the hair, —
A prank nobody knew but them,
Lost, in the sepulchre.
How warm they were on such a day:
You almost feel the date,
So short way off it seems; and now,
They 're centuries from that.
How pleased they were at what you said;
You try to touch the smile,
And dip your fingers in the frost:
When was it, can you tell,
You asked the company to tea,
Acquaintance, just a few,
And chatted close with this grand thing
That don't remember you?
Past bows and invitations,
Past interview, and vow,
Past what ourselves can estimate, —
That makes the quick of woe!
We are busy working to bring Emily Dickinson's "If anybody's friend be dead" to life through our unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you soon.
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This creative journey takes time—each composition represents hours of dedicated work to create something that deepens our connection to Emily Dickinson's words in meaningful ways.
While you wait for our complete interpretation, we invite you to explore other musical arrangements in our gallery or learn more about Emily Dickinson's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "If anybody's friend be dead" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.