It was not Death for I stood up 510 by Emily Dickinson Lyrics
It was not Death, for I stood up
And all the Dead, lie down—
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Sirocos—crawl—
Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool—
And yet, it tasted, like them all
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine—
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame
And could not breathe without a key
And 'twas like Midnight, some—
When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns
Repeal the Beating Ground—
But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—
Without a Chance, or Spar—
Or even a Report of Land—
To justify—Despair
And all the Dead, lie down—
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Sirocos—crawl—
Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool—
And yet, it tasted, like them all
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial
Reminded me, of mine—
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame
And could not breathe without a key
And 'twas like Midnight, some—
When everything that ticked—has stopped—
And Space stares all around—
Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns
Repeal the Beating Ground—
But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—
Without a Chance, or Spar—
Or even a Report of Land—
To justify—Despair