So proud she was to die

❦

So proud she was to die
It made us all ashamed
That what we cherished, so unknown
To her desire seemed.

So satisfied to go
Where none of us should be,
Immediately, that anguish stooped
Almost to jealousy.

More poems by Emily Dickinson

A PROMPT, executive Bird is the Jay, / Bold as a Bailiff's hymn,

THE SPIRIT. / 'T is whiter than an Indian pipe,

I reason, earth is short, / And anguish absolute,

Of all the souls that stand create / I have elected one.