AFTER GREAT PAIN
After great pain a formal feeling comes-
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions- was it He that bore?
And yesterday - or centuries before?
The feet mechanical
Go round a wooden way
of ground or air or Ought, regardless grown,
A quartz contentment like a stone.
This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow-
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.
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