Emily Dickinson: 'Twas warm - at first - like Us - Until there crep



'Twas warm - at first - like Us -
Until there crept upon
A Chill - like frost upon a Glass -
Till all the scene - be gone.
The Forehead copied Stone -
The Fingers grew too cold
To ache - and like a Skater's Brook -
The busy eyes - congealed -

It straightened - that was all -
It crowded Cold to Cold -
It multiplied indifference -
As Pride were all it could -

And even when with Cords -
'Twas lowered, like a Freight -
It made no Signal, nor demurred,
But dropped like Adamant.


Emily Dickinson

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