Poemsby 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.