'Twas Warm—at First—like Us

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'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 Weight—
It made no Signal, nor demurred,
But dropped like Adamant.

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (2)

It multiplied indifference— As Pride were all it could— a Very fine poem from the great poetess Emily who we studied in the litt. classes. tony
The second stanza is an appalling description of death.. Compare this poem to WC Williams 'To a Dead Journalist.'