Poemsby Emily Dickinson


 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.