By: Emily Dickinson
This World is
not Conclusion.
A Species
stands beyond-
Invisible, as
Music-
But positive,
as Sound-
It beckons,
and it baffles-
Philosophy-don’t
know-
And through a
Riddle, at the last-
Sagacity, must
go-
To guess it,
puzzles scholars-
To gain it,
Men have borne
Contempt of
Generations
And
Crucifixion, shown-
Faith
slips-and laughs, and rallies-
Blushes, if
any see-
Plucks at a
twig of Evidence-
And asks a
Vane, the way-
Much Gesture,
from the Pulpit-
Strong
Hallelujahs roll-
Narcotics cannot
still the Tooth
That nibbles
at the soul-
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