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ClassicsEmily Dickinson
479 She dealt her pretty words like Blades— How glittering they shone— And every One unbared a Nerve Or wantoned with a Bone— She never deemed—she hurt— That—is not Steel’s Affair— A ****** grimace in the Flesh— How ill the Creatures bear— To Ache is human—not polite— The Film upon the eye Mortality’s old Custom— Just locking up—to Die.
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She dealt her pretty words like Blades
479 She dealt her pretty words like Blades— How glittering they shone— And every One unbared a Nerve Or wantoned with a Bone— She never deemed—she hurt— That—is not Steel’s Affair— A ****** grimace in the Flesh— How ill the Creatures bear— To Ache is human—not polite— The Film upon the eye Mortality’s old Custom— Just locking up—to Die.
Emily Dickinson
Classics
Emily Dickinson
1830 - 1886/Female/American