509 <br /> <br />If anybody's friend be dead <br />It's sharpest of the theme <br />The thinking how they walked alive— <br />At such and such a time— <br /> <br />Their costume, of a Sunday, <br />Some manner of the Hair— <br />A prank nobody knew but them <br />Lost, in the Sepulchre— <br /> <br />How warm, they were, on such a day, <br />You almost feel the date— <br />So short way off it seems— <br />And now—they're Centuries from that— <br /> <br />How pleased they were, at what you said— <br />You try to touch the smile <br />And dip your fingers in the frost— <br />When was it—Can you tell— <br /> <br />You asked the Company to tea— <br />Acquaintance—just a few— <br />And chatted close with this Grand Thing <br />That don't remember you— <br /> <br />Past Bows, and Invitations— <br />Past Interview, and Vow— <br />Past what Ourself can estimate— <br />That—makes the Quick of Woe!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-anybody-s-friend-be-dead/
