After great pain a formal feeling comes

After great pain,a formal feelin comes -

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs -

The stiff Heart questions 'was it He, that bore,'

And 'Yesterday, or Centuries before'?

The Feet, mechanical, go round -

A Wooden way

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought -

Regardless grown,

A Quartz cóntentment, like a stone -

This is the Hour of Lead -

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -

First  - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go -

En av Emily Dickinsons 1775 dikter :)