1296
Death's Waylaying not the sharpest
Of the thefts of Time-
There Marauds a sorer Robber,
Silence-is his name-
No Assault, nor any Menace
Doth betoken him.
But from Life's consummate Cluster-
He supplants the Balm.
Death's Waylaying Not The Sharpest
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: death, life, silence, time, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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