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Contents > Author > Emily Dickinson > 'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -- 1830- 1886
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Emily Dickinson
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so --
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'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 Farmers' doors --
For whose reluctant Crumb --
We stipulate -- till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.

(#335)
 

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