I Died For Beauty _ But Was Scarce

I died for Beauty — but was scarce
By Emily Dickinson

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 —

The ultimate effect of this poem is to show that every aspect of human life—ideals, human feelings, identity itself—is erased by death.

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revamp!! here ^3^