Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine— I meant to tell Her how I longed For just this single time— But Death had told Her so the first— And she had past, with Him— To wander—now—is my Repose— To rest—To rest would be A privilege of Hurricane To Memory—and Me.
Added: 30 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 2 Dec 2008 6:33 AM | Viewed: 5165 times
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Emily Dickinson
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