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I did not reach Thee

Emily Dickinson

1664

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
When I am telling thee.

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
Sahara is too little price
To pay for thy Right hand.

The Sea comes last—Step merry, feet,
So short we have to go—
To play together we are prone,
But we must labor now,
The last shall be the lightest load
That we have had to draw.

The Sun goes crooked—
That is Night
Before he makes the bend.
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.

We step like Plush,
We stand like snow,
The waters murmur new.
Three rivers and the Hill are passed—
Two deserts and the sea!
Now Death usurps my Premium
And gets the look at Thee.

Edited by Peter Carter

Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 24 Apr 2014 10:23 PM | Viewed: 6781 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/8388/ | Viewed on 24 April 2014.
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