Page:Emily Dickinson Poems (1890).djvu/142

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XXIII.

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I reason, earth is short,
And anguish absolute,
And many hurt ;
But what of that ?

I reason, we could die :
The best vitality
Cannot excel decay ;
But what of that ?

I reason that in heaven
Somehow, it will be even,
Some new equation given ;
But what of that ?

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