The end of "I Measure Every Grief I Meet" by Emily Dickinson:
The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –There's Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call "Despair" –
There's Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they're mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –
(Photo: A Shi'ite worshiper bleeds after cutting his scalp in a ritual display of mourning during an Ashura commemoration ceremony outside Kadhimiya shrine on December 6, 2011 in Baghdad, Iraq. Ashura marks the death of Prophet Muhammad's grandson the revered Imam Hussein in Karbala, Iraq in 680 AD. Shi'ite festivals were prohibited during the time of Sunni dictator Saddam Hussein's rule. By Mario Tama/Getty Images)
The Dish 