Emily Dickinson I died for Beauty — but was scarce

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I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died
for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room

He questioned softly „Why I failed”?
„For Beauty”, I replied
„And I — for Truth — Themself are One
We Brethren, are”, He said

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night
We talked between the Rooms
Until the Moss had reached our lips
And covered up — our names