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 –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
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 –
The “Hour of Lead” is a succinct  metaphor  that sums up the journey to numbness.  It is a reference to time; the gradual movement to hardness, darkness and heaviness.  So the paradox is revealed, that great pain leads to an absence of pain, an abs pre-empted. 

After great pain a formal feeling comes J341 F372