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Emily Dickinson - `Twas warm — at first — like UsEmily Dickinson - `Twas warm — at first — like Us
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519 `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.
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