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.
(Emily Dickinson)
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Based on Topics: Snow PoemsBased on Keywords: load, telling, nearer, slip, crooked, labor, prone, deserts, lightest, plush, sahara