Emily Dickinson
372, After great pain, a formal feeling comes
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –[1A]
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?[4A]

The Feet[5A], mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Aught –[7A]
Regardless grown,[8A]
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –[9A]

This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,[11A]
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –[13A]