Her Final Summer Was It
795
Her final Summer was it-
And yet We guessed it not-
If tenderer industriousness
Pervaded Her, We thought
A further force of life
Developed from within-
When Death lit all the shortness up
It made the hurry plain-
We wondered at our blindness
When nothing was to see
But Her Carrara Guide post-
At Our Stupidity-
When duller than our dullness
The Busy Darling lay-
So busy was she-finishing-
So leisurely-were We-
Emily Dickinson
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