ON this long storm the rainbow rose,
On this late morn the sun;
The clouds, like listless elephants,
Horizons straggled down.
  
The birds rose smiling in their nests,         
The gales indeed were done;
Alas! how heedless were the eyes
On whom the summer shone!
  
The quiet nonchalance of death
No daybreak can bestir;         
The slow archangel’s syllables
Must awaken her.

Emily Dickinson

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