Explore "If Anybody's Friend be Dead" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
If anybody's friend be dead, / It 's sharpest of the theme / The thinking how they walked alive, / At such and such a time.
Their costume, of a Sunday, / Some manner of the hair, -- / A prank nobody knew but them, / Lost, in the sepulchre.
How warm they were on such a day: / You almost feel the date, / So short way off it seems; and now, / They 're centuries from that.
How pleased they were at what you said; / You try to touch the smile, / And dip your fingers in the frost: / When was it, can you tell,
You asked the company to tea, / Acquaintance, just a few, / And chatted close with this grand thing / That don't remember you?
Past bows and invitations, / Past interview, and vow, / Past what ourselves can estimate, -- / That makes the quick of woe!