Author Emily Dickinson To make One's Toilette—after DeathHas made the Toilette coolOf only Taste we cared to pleaseIs difficult, and still—That's easier—than Braid the Hair—And make the Bodice gay—When eyes that fondled it are wrenchedBy Decalogues—away— Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments