Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Five: The Single Hound
CXLVI
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| I DID not reach thee, | |
| But my feet slip nearer every day; | |
| Three Rivers and a Hill to cross, | |
| One Desert and a Sea— | |
| I shall not count the journey one | 5 |
| When I am telling thee. | |
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| Two deserts—but the year is cold | |
| So that will help the sand— | |
| One desert crossed, the second one | |
| Will feel as cool as land. | 10 |
| Sahara is too little price | |
| To pay for thy Right hand! | |
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| The sea comes last. Step merry, feet! | |
| So short have we to go | |
| To play together we are prone, | 15 |
| But we must labor now, | |
| The last shall be the lightest load | |
| That we have had to draw. | |
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| The Sun goes crooked—that is night— | |
| Before he makes the bend | 20 |
| We must have passed the middle sea, | |
| Almost we wish the end | |
| Were further off—too great it seems | |
| So near the Whole to stand. | |
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| We step like plush, we stand like snow— | 25 |
| The waters murmur now, | |
| Three rivers and the hill are passed, | |
| Two deserts and the sea! | |
| Now Death usurps my premium | |
| And gets the look at Thee. | 30 |
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