Emily Dickinson — The Inevitable

While I was fearing it, it came,    But came with less of fear, Because that fearing it so long    Had almost made it dear. There is a fitting a dismay,    A fitting a despair. 'Tis harder knowing it is due,    Than knowing it is here. The trying on the utmost,    The morning it is new, Is terribler than wearing it    A whole existence through.