A still—Volcano—Life—
That flickered in the night—
When it was dark enough to do
Without erasing sight—
A quiet—Earthquake Style—
Too subtle to suspect
By natures this side Naples—
The North cannot detect
The Solemn—Torrid—Symbol—
The lips that never lie—
Whose hissing Corals part—and shut—
And Cities—ooze away—
This is the final line of the pattern of  oxymora . In this line, “Solemn” (formal/dignified) is juxtaposed with “Torrid” (hot/dry, difficult, or showing strong emotion). Again, we are given another description of Dickinson’s inner self, both dignified and chaotic. 
 *Definitions paraphrased from Merriam-Webster
A still—Volcano—Life 601