Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete · Emily Dickinson
Chapter 6
Chapter 10 of 146 · 1 min read
If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year, I'd wind the months in balls, And put them each in separate drawers, Until their time befalls.
If only centuries delayed, I'd count them on my hand, Subtracting till my fingers dropped Into Van Diemen's land.
If certain, when this life was out, That yours and mine should be, I'd toss it yonder like a rind, And taste eternity.
But now, all ignorant of the length Of time's uncertain wing, It goads me, like the goblin bee, That will not state its sting.
VII.
WITH A FLOWER.
I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too — And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower, That, fading from your vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me Almost a loneliness.
VIII.
PROOF.
That I did always love, I bring thee proof: That till I loved I did not love enough.
That I shall love alway, I offer thee That love is life, And life hath immortality.
This, dost thou doubt, sweet? Then have I Nothing to show But Calvary.
