'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
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...