< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems (1890).djvu
This page has been validated.
XII.
REAL.
{| align="center" style="padding-left: 2em;"
|
I like a look of agony
Because I know it 's true ;
Men do not sham convulsion,
Nor simulate a throe.
The eyes gaze once, and that is death.
Impossible to feign
The beads upon the forehead
By homely anguish strung.
|}
This article is issued from
Wikisource.
The text is licensed under Creative
Commons - Attribution - Sharealike.
Additional terms may apply for the media files.