'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.
