Death Is Like The Insect

Emily Dickinson

1716

Death is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
But decoyed may be.

Bait it with the balsam,
Seek it with the saw,
Baffle, if it cost you
Everything you are.

Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill—
Wring the tree and leave it,
’Tis the vermin’s will.

Next 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Death Is Potential To That Man
• Emily Dickinson : Death Is The Supple Suitor
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• Emily Dickinson : Death Sets A Thing Of Signigicant
• Emily Dickinson : Death Sets A Thing Significant
• Emily Dickinson : Death Warrants Are Supposed To Be
• Emily Dickinson : Death's Waylaying Not The Sharpest
• Emily Dickinson : Declaiming Waters None May Dread-
• Emily Dickinson : Defrauded I A Butterfly
• Emily Dickinson : Delayed Till She Had Ceased To Know

Previous 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Death Is A Dialogue Between
• Emily Dickinson : Dear March-come In-
• Emily Dickinson : Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat?
• Emily Dickinson : Crumbling Is Not An Instant's Act
• Emily Dickinson : Crisis Is Sweet And Yet The Heart
• Emily Dickinson : Crisis Is A Hair
• Emily Dickinson : Count Not That Far That Can Be Had
• Emily Dickinson : Could-i Do More-for Thee
• Emily Dickinson : Could That Sweet Darkness Where They Dwell
• Emily Dickinson : Could Mortal Lip Divine