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Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson Surrender Doubt me, my dim companion! Why, God would be content With but a fraction of the love Poured thee without a stint. The whole of me, forever, What more the woman can, -- Say quick, that I may dower thee With last delight I own! It cannot be my spirit, For that was thine before; I ceded all of dust I knew, -- What opulence the more Had I, a humble maiden, Whose farthest of degree Was that she might, Some distant heaven, Dwell timidly with thee! Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot! Strain till your last Surmise — Drop, like a Tapestry, away, Before the Fire's Eyes — Winnow her finest fondness — But hallow just the snow Intact, in Everlasting flake — Oh, Caviler, for you! Emily Elizabeth Dickinson Emily Elizabeth Dickinson's other poems:
Poems of the other poets with the same name: 1650 Views |
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