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A continuing selection of classic and contemporary poems.

Praise it—’tis dead—

Emily Dickinson

1384

Praise it—’tis dead—
It cannot glow—
Warm this inclement Ear
With the encomium it earned
Since it was gathered here—
Invest this alabaster Zest
In the Delights of Dust—
Remitted—since it flitted it
In recusance august.
Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson | Written c. 1876
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