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Poemsby Emily Dickinson

XII
Unwarned

Death

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 knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
  Everything in life.
Then, if it have burrowed
  Out of reach of skill,
Ring the tree and leave it, —
  'T is the vermin's will.