Emily Dickinson Poems >>
Again - his voice is at the door

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Again - his voice is at the door -
I feel the old Degree -
I hear him ask the servant
For such an one - as me -

I take a flower - as I go -
My face to justify -
He never saw me - in this life -
I might surprise his eye!

I cross the Hall with mingled steps -
I - silent - pass the door -
I look on all this world contains -
Just his face - nothing more!

We talk in careless-and it toss -
A kind of plummet strain -
Each - sounding - shyly -
Just - how - deep -
The other's one - had been -

We walk - I leave my Dog - at home -
A tender - thoughtful Moon -
Goes with us - just a little way -
And - then - we are alone -

Alone - if Angels are "alone" -
First time they try the sky!
Alone - if those "veiled faces" - be -
We cannot count - on High!

I'd give - to live that hour - again -
The purple - in my Vein -
But He must count the drops - himself -
My price for every stain!