An untitled poem by Emily Dickinson
 
 
To die---takes just a little while---
They say it doesn't hurt---
It's only fainter---by degrees---
And then---it's out of sight---
 
A darker Ribbon---for a Day---
A Crape upon the Hat---
And then the pretty sunshine comes---
And helps us to forget---
 
The absent---mystic---creature---
That but for love of us---
Had gone to sleep---that soundest time---
Without the weariness---