The Morning after Woe
The Morning after Woe --
'Tis frequently the Way --
Surpasses all that rose before --
For utter Jubilee --
As Nature did not care --
And piled her Blossoms on --
And further to parade a Joy
Her Victim stared upon --
The Birds declaim their Tunes --
Pronouncing every word
Like Hammers -- Did they know they fell
Like Litanies of Lead --
On here and there -- a creature --
They'd modify the Glee
To fit some Crucifixal Clef --
Some Key of Calvary --
Poem by
Emily Dickinson
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