POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON
CXII
ARE friends delight or pain?Could bounty but remain Riches were good.
But if they only stayBolder to fly away, Riches are sad.
CXIII
ASHES denote that fire was; Respect the grayest pileFor the departed creature’s sake That hovered there awhile.
Fire exists the first in light, And then consolidates,—Only the chemist can disclose Into what carbonates.
CXIV
FATE slew him, but he did not drop She felled—he did not fall—Impaled him on her fiercest stakes — He neutralized them all.
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