Emily Dickinson Poem

I did not reach Thee

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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 –

I do not care – why should I care
I counted till they danced so

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