537
Me prove it now-Whoever doubt
Me stop to prove it-now-
Make haste-the Scruple! Death be scant
For Opportunity-
The River reaches to my feet-
As yet-My Heart be dry-
Oh Lover-Life could not convince-
Might Death-enable Thee-
The River reaches to My Breast-
Still-still-My Hands above
Proclaim with their remaining Might-
Dost recognize the Love?
The River reaches to my Mouth-
Remember-when the Sea
Swept by my searching eyes-the last-
Themselves were quick-with Thee!
(Emily Dickinson)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Death & Dying PoemsBased on Keywords: scruple, eyes-the, it-now, now-whoever