Emily Dickinson — As far from pity as complaint

496 As far from pity, as complaint As cool to speech — as stone As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone As far from time — as History As near yourself — Today As Children, to the Rainbow's scarf Or Sunset's Yellow play To eyelids in the Sepulchre How dumb the Dancer lies While Color's Revelations break And blaze — the Butterflies!