poems sent from dickinson to frances and louise norcross

'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -
'Tis Living - hurts us more -
But Dying - is a different way -
A Kind behind the Door -

The Southern Custom - of the Bird -
That ere the Frosts are due -
Accepts a better Latitude -
We - are the Birds - that stay.

The Shiverers round Farmer's doors -
For whose reluctant Crumb -
We stipulate - till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home

thomas johnson's note on poem 335 | index to dickinson/norcross poems

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Commentary copyright 1998 by Martha Nell Smith, all rights reserved
Maintained by Lara Vetter <lv26@umail.umd.edu>
Last updated on December 15, 1998