‘Tis Seasons since the Dimpled War
In which we each were Conqueror
And each of us were slain
And Centuries ’twill be and more
Another Massacre before
So modest and so vain —
Without a Formula we fought
Each was to each the Pink Redoubt —

Analysis, meaning and summary of Emily Dickinson's poem ‘Tis Seasons since the Dimpled War

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