From Free media library
| If anybody's friend be dead
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| Written by: | Emily Dickinson (other works)
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| Poem #: | 509
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| Composed: |
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| Published: |
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| Volume: |
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| Language: | English
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| Type: | Poetry
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| Form: |
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| Rhyme: |
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| Preceded by: | I'm ceded -- I've stopped being Theirs -- -508-
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| Succeeded by: | It was not Death, for I stood up, -510-
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Wikipedia article
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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 Ourself can estimate --
That -- makes the Quick of Woe!
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