Emily Dickinson


I cross till I am weary
A Mountain -- in my mind --
More Mountains -- then a Sea --
More Seas -- And then
A Desert -- find --

And My Horizon blocks
With steady -- drifting -- Grains
Of unconjectured quantity --
As Asiatic Rains --

Nor this -- defeat my Pace --
It hinder from the West
But as an Enemy's Salute
One hurrying to Rest --

What merit had the Goal --
Except there intervene
Faint Doubt -- and far Competitor --
To jeopardize the Gain?

At last -- the Grace in sight --
I shout unto my feet --
I offer them the Whole of Heaven
The instant that we meet --

They strive -- and yet delay --
They perish -- Do we die --
Or is this Death's Experiment --
Reversed -- in Victory?