I heard a Fly buzz-when I died
Our share of night to bear
Till death-is narrow loving
A little Madness in the Spring
After great pain, a formal feeling comes
Some things that fly there be
The Months have ends-the Years-a knot
These are the days when Birds come back
The Heart asks Pleasure-first
Not probable-The barest Chance
My Cocoon tightens-Colors tease
Tis not that Dying hurts us so
There is a solitude of space
Two Butterflies went out at Noon
It s easy to invent a Life
To die-takes just a little while
If all the griefs I am to have
We learn in the retreating.
