No Notice Gave She, But A Change
Emily Dickinson
804 No Notice gave She, but a Change— No Message, but a Sigh— For Whom, the Time did not suffice That She should specify. She was not warm, though Summer shone Nor scrupulous of cold Though Rime by Rime, the steady Frost Upon Her Bosom piled— Of shrinking ways—she did not fright Though all the Village looked— But held Her gravity aloft— And met the gaze—direct— And when adjusted like a Seed In careful fitted Ground Unto the Everlasting Spring And hindered but a Mound Her Warm return, if so she chose— And We—imploring drew— Removed our invitation by As Some She never knew—
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