'Twas warm -- at first -- like Us --Until there crept uponA Chill -- like frost upon a Glass --Till all the scene -- be gone.The Forehead copied Stone --The Fingers grew too coldTo 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 FreightFreightWeight --It made no Signal, nor demurred,But dropped like Adamant.