Surrender

V. Surrender

Doubt me, my dim companion ! Why, God would be content With but a fraction of the love Poured thee without a stint. The whole of me, forever, What more the woman can, — Say quick, that I may dower thee With last delight I own ! It cannot be my spirit, For that was thine before ; I ceded all of dust I knew, — What opulence the more Had I, a humble maiden, Whose farthest of degree Was that she might, Some distant heaven, Dwell timidly with thee !

 

from Poems by Emily Dickinson (1890)
Suspense	"If you were coming in the fall"

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