Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Wild Nights

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!

1. This Merit Hath the Worst
2. Contrast
3. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized
4. In Lands I Never Saw, They Say
5. He Put the Belt around My Life

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