Soir Bleu, 1914. Edward Hopper

After great pain, a formal feeling comes -
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs
The stiff Heart questions, was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round -
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought -
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone -

This is the Hour of Lead -
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -
First Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go -

After Great Pain. 1864.  Emily Dickinson