Poems ✍️
  11.06.2025
  20

Author: Emily Dickinson

Praise it - 'tis dead

Praise it - 'tis dead -
It cannot glow -
Warm this inclement Ear
With the encomium it earned
Since it was gathered here -
Invest this alabaster Zest
In the Delights of Dust -
Remitted - since it flitted it
In recusance august.


  Death praise memory transience

Share on social networks:
Facebook | VK | WhatsApp | Telegram | Twitter

Take a look 👇

  he grave my little cottage is ᐈ
  Remembrance has a Rear and Front ᐈ
  Whether they have forgotten ᐈ
  Of so divine a Loss ᐈ
  A train went through a burial gate ᐈ

Write a review